Of Old Buddha And Other Tales

A map of old routes

Veins of desire across earth skin

Crossings and re crossing -

Shadow and light.

  

The long cry of the crow

Lingers in valley mist –

Autumn born in dew fall 

Now.

Next to old Buddha himself

A flagon of cider –

Resting quiet
Reading Ryōkan
.

My fingers tracing a blind path

Seeing through feel alone

Cleaving to new old ways

Each day landscape to be rediscovered -

Deep woodland depths

& the sun's high arc.

The old field barn

Tin roof rusted to red earth tints

Folds itself into autumnal hills -

Awed by the gape of time

Looking over the fields

We watched the heavens turn

As the sun swallowed the moon.