Jesus playing goalie for Toronto

Hasui Kawase

Here at the End of Days

Jesus has returned

And this time he plays hockey

For the Toronto Maple Leafs

Mary Magdalene sells make-up

On late night television infomercials

And Judas Iscariot is a conservative 

Supreme Court Justice 

This morning I walked outside

And found that I was inside again 

Walking back in 

I found myself in the front yard 

Looking to the sky 

I could see the moon was still up 

Watching my every move 

James Lee Jobe

We are always in transition. If you can just relax with that, you'll have no problem. 

Chogyam Trungpa

JOHN MAYALL & BILLY PRESTON, Along For The Ride

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Seeds

We are but seeds and our lives are the earth, the soil.
Tell me, what shall we grow in this garden?

James Lee Jobe 

None so deaf as those that will not hear. None so blind as those that will not see. 

 Matthew Henry

Mourning Yin Yao 

Returning you to Stone-Tower Mountain, we bid farewell among ash-green pine and cypress, then return home. 

Of your bones now buried white cloud, this much remains forever: streams cascading empty toward human realms.

Wang Wei, 701-762 CE

Hasui Kawase

I Call Bullshit 

I heard it said that actors and artists
should not comment on politics.
What nonsense.
If the leaders are not helping the people or the earth
we should be quick to speak out.
A film or a play against war, greed, or cruelty.
A painting, a sculpture
that captures the evil being done to us,
or perhaps the beauty of human kindness.
Poems by the dozens that spew lava and truths
that burn through lies and the lust for power.
Poets, artists, novelists, actors - create!
Speak for those voices that are not heard.

James Lee Jobe 

You cannot simply stay at home and say, “I am already where I want to be.” It is only the journey that makes you realize your true potential, and only at the end of the journey will you understand that the goal is not to separate from the starting point.

Traleg Kyabgon Rinpoche

Hasui Kawase

I need more poems about the quiet mice of the sky; their eyes are rain clouds.

James Lee Jobe 

LINK: The Moon Is In Labor, a poem by Gail Wronsky

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Thanks, James