at Poco’s


I listened to the leaves falling this morning

exquisite space so clear and crisp

“when your mind contains no plan

wherever you go it’s alert”

this is living to the fullest

allowing to show up out of itself

my cup empty my screen blank

images expectations anxiety

rising like bubble of swamp gas in the marsh

no examination of each bubble before it bursts

just noticing “it’s another bubble”

images formed from traces of life’s flow

talking to each other

making plans for their goals

they are but shadows on shadows

does it feel desolate to see like this?

one would think

but one doesn’t

one is

worship the formless reality by unthought thought

such a delightful koan

they’re our dream-catchers and there are


once caught no need to think them

open the cage and let them fly

who cares

it matters not to one who is

listening to the leaves falling





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