Hilltop hut

Secluded in this hilltop hut,

Surrounded by gentle rain and tiny birds,

I unpack my mind

bit by bit,

until the work is done.

maple beat

 Under the autumn maple,

halfway between beginnings and endings

leaves fall, some now, some later

all the time, every last one.

Feeling the ending of this,

can you dance to the spring of a new beginning?

Morning time

Cross-legged on thin cushion

in third watch of the night,

cold autumn air.

The sun's halo rises in the distance

warmth like honey seeps into my clothes.

fade in, fade out

thoughtless whimsy dreams.

--

Under warm covers

restless daybreak,

cold autumn air.

Rooster shrieks in judgement, I'm late!

but so tired...

fade in, fade out,

empty things

thoughtless whimsy dreams.

unhardened heart

 At night when all is quiet, and I have time alone, I feel my heart get a bit softer-- the hard crust of the troubles of the day breaks away, revealing what is underneath.

Summer fades into color and wind...

 Summer fades into color and wind.

I consider why I am here, why I might stay for the winter.

I have no good reason, other than it's where I'm already at, and that's ok.

I feel like so much of 'who I am' or 'who I was' has crumbled away in the past decade.

I did not seriously reflect, I could not-- I had not gotten the life experience yet:

to contemplate what I say in my teenage years,

That, "These years may be the best of my life."

In some ways, they were, but only because I was a blank slate in many ways.

I have been thinking lately, philosophically, on what it might mean to be a ronin,

a 'wave man.' A person without much purpose, or at least,

existing outside the usual hierarchies and structures of society.

Perhaps not 'outside,' I don't think there is an outside,

a better phrase would be 'on the edges of society.'

Similar in feeling to a person sitting on the edge of a cliff:

A wonderful view, a nice breeze, but no certainty in the ground underneath oneself.

The biggest danger is the other people close to the cliff-- they might push or shove, and without

meaning to, I or they might fall off and be hurt.

Standing at the edge of the rest of my life,

joyous at heart, but also alone, with some amount of melancholy,

can I let go? Sit and be ok, with not amounting to much?

I love to lay in the sun and watch the clouds,

to rest by cool river waters,

to watch the ravens fly over the canyon,

yet being alone feels so painful.

But alone is not forever-- and pain is not endless.

Joyous in this retreat, yet still feeling melancholy,

can I train to endure and overcome my own suffering?

Love and hate do still matter,

even though I'm here alone--

because it's what is in the heart that matters.

We carry antidotes and poisons in our every day minds-- I do whatever I do to myself.

But I can still sit quietly and alone,

and watch the fire burn low,

as I listen to the sound of the rain,

late in this autumn evening.

 

Old Memories

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Let go.
Put it down.
Bury the hatchet.
Forgive.
Forget.
Break the cycle.
Only through renunciation of what was can there be room for new growth.