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Fragments of the past collect in the corners of my mind

Glistening shards of broken Christmas decorations

fragile and lethal to tiny fingers

Soft and silky carpet of pine needles

in a fragrant forest long ago

Lapping water against a bobbing boat

hot sun spilling reflections like gems

Pages from myriad books

float and settle softly on the floor

A white cat whisker

caught in the weave of a shawl

scratches memories…

I scoop them gently

into a paper boat

and set it free on the wind of time


focus aout05

Art: Benoit Saito




The fallen gods have spoken

their words drowned

in an endless howl

blood pouring from

gaping mouths of murderers

of their mothers and fathers

screeching with hatred

blinded by death

they spin the karmic wheel

one more time


Art: Francisco Goya: Saturn Devouring His Son



Mirror cracks

Reflection scarred

Eyes averted from the shape of time

Memories float like shadows

Linger and die

Scattered shards of broken dreams

Litter the mind

Betrayed and forsaken by no one

And self

Hope rising ghostly pale

Welcomed and feared

Life suspended on frail threads

Heartbeat lifts and falls

Straining to the sound

Of one hand clapping.



To see and feel

but not think

To observe and understand

but not judge

To live not in fear or hope

but in one


(for Krishnamurti)