Moon of the Hare in a Sky Full of Wanderers
Sky lords gather and secret chiefs chatter
Water bird Mother remains ever watchfulBottles of Wod sing in the wind
Painters of green return a bit at a time
Symphony of birds in bamboo bush at sunsetSymphony of flapping wings there at night disturbance
Fall into the numbing rhythm of motion and duty
Lives begin, lives end, and pledges are keptHappy aches and tiredness append to the end of days
Crow calls and Jay calls cut the air in dopplering screamsSome suffer in accepted defeat while others fuck the daze away
Noumen emerges, piercing the ground with leaf and bud tips
Pregnant buds clothe eager tree cloudsThe kins of hazel, willow, birkin, and alder hang and stretch in their pollen dances
I dream of an arranged lover and wake up for the better
The morning is beckoning louder and louder
Curiosity of speedier change calls the drowsy along
West and East grapple in my mind
Words fail to convey the meanings within that we SeekNobody Cares
Sadness comes and goes
Emotional pain falls away from the moment’s awareness for there is no room there for feeding it
Loss in duty is an approximation where one can train
To train in awareness and to train in compassion is the work of a noble life
Patience, happy striving, and sincerity are the royal ministers
Pleasures are measly tokens of passing moments
Yet I catch myself covetingWoman unveiled appears even in pools underground
But for a time is the strip tease climactic
But for the building and propping and contrast it is just simple slowness
What medicine is this that we devour at this hour?
It is the Sun that swells and the Moon that dwells now with the plane kingsThe Seven Stars of Ziggurats and the Seven Veils Undone in the Great Below
Big worlds, little worlds, and mirrors
Adepts charm themselves into accepting this or that reality
Ha
Nihil, Annihilate. Nirvana, stop the madness – but only for a while
for stopping and starting are no different
Maybe tomorrow we will understand these things
Yeah maybe we will
I think we will.
