this morning: utter lusciousness, serious contentment


This morning ‘I’ opens eyes in a new version of world-ing.

This morning the great Shining slips through slits in wooden window shutters.
I rise with its rays, make green tea in a different kitchen.

This morning’s view from the zafu opens out over cerulean, cobalt, turquoise
blending to ultramarine at the horizon: the Coral Sea.
Utter lusciousness for an artist’s brain.

This morning’s body is stiff and sore, tired and protesting.
There will be a quieter day today, methinks.  But who can tell?
Life’s agenda and my own often don’t match!

This morning, as always, I-eye just watches,
serenely unaffected and seriously contented.


I know that I know


floating, arms outstretched,
rolling like the playful whales
that so love this benign bay
turning down, head-first, diving,
sweeping the sandy bottoms,
rising again, breaking free into
sparkling sunlight
then doing it all again and again
in these balmy waters
called the Coral Sea

and I ask myself:
what is It that never gets wet?
what is It that never moves a muscle?
what is It that is aware-ing all this

and I know that I know,
have known It always,
have never been apart from It

and this is the greatest
of all