I Need My Used Book Store

Three Lives, in New York. From Intelligencer I need my used bookstore. The sensuous aromas of waxy skin jackets andmahogany shelves, paperskeletons in an excavatedashram of introspection.I need what it stashes awaybehind a Tom Clancy noveland an old National Geographic.Eureka! That one book, at sometime misplaced in my mind,appearing as a lost symbol ofwilderness, casting a garland-clothed silhouette, as flannel-shirted, torn-jeaned, leather- sandalled […]

Two Monks Arguing About Movement

It’s not the leaves that move. Nor is it the Banyan tree. The mind moves both of them,as if they were constructed of thoughts from the river’s basement,Rising from the cracks,where my grandfather usedto lay his line, like the idea of wind and Banyan trees- not unlike the ideaof crawfish and trout, everything struckwith the face of awe, a holy agreement.that we can all be residents of a sunlit world.

Where Deer Sleep

My three-year-old sonasked me where deer sleep.So I took him there. Steppinginto a space that is not meantfor fathers and sons, we founda ritual that has nothing to dowith us. An original grace. A serenitythat evokes the burden of redemption.That place where deer sleep, under aplumbeous sky, the pods of grass benttoward the center of […]

While Passing By a Church Near My Home

I think about how the hive mindknows how to act in one direction,with one will and one purpose.Chanting with all those lungs,a thin transparent tissue of light rays through the diaphragm, Just as Ayutthaya tests it with dreams, those unconscious proofs of heaven framed insidethe aperture only. Your saint, the one who youfollow with a deep personal love, like […]

Splash

Aigua Blava Beach, Begur, Spain. Photo by Peter Müller. Suppose there were a pool of water—clear, limpid, and unsullied. A man with good eyesight standing there on the bank would see shells, gravel, and pebbles, and also shoals of fish swimming about and resting. Why is that? Because of the unsullied nature of the water. […]

Close to Timberline

Ascorbic acid tabletswon’t quench my thirst. I want the secret sourcesof the Hudson, log bridges,and vanished paths. Hydrating oil-in-lipstickwon’t cover my hunger.  I want countless warm pondswrapped in cold weather. A thin mist. The deep woods. I want freedom. No paper flowers.No fairy tale weddings.No cloned puppies. Just early snow ontumbled rocks, and the fountainheadof majestic streams. […]