a wisp of light and a stamping of hooves

The clouds are like cotton. Armies of them. They are carbon monoxide. Sweetly, sweetly, I breathe in, filling my veins with invisibles.

Sylvia Plath

Step into the corner of night, the edge of the blue-steel future,
step into those things that you have hoped for, but haven't said.

You are a field left fallow, an unanswered question, a small slice
of winter that was hidden and saved for the long, slow heat of summer.

Where are your foot-prints now? What is it that you have hidden,
buried deep somewhere? How will you move at all, so badly wounded?

You are the sum and total of your every experience, your every thought.
And this is the boat of your life, slicing through a choppy, shallow bay,

the dog that just walked away, the river that laughed at the bayou
and went where it wanted to go, the sun that burned and ravaged the land.

Step into the corner of night, the edge of the blue-steel future,
step into those things that you have hoped for, but never said.

You wanted to know the truth? Friend, the truth is inside of you.
You are the only one who ever knew the truth.

James Lee Jobe

If we can accept our imperfections as they are, then we can use them as part of the path.

Chögyam Trungpa

Cannonball Adderly Quintet, Mercy, Mercy, Mercy 

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To have nothing in mind is noble. to have no skill and no knowledge is supreme. No abiding, no hermitage, comes next. 

Basho

Michael Lukasiewicz

The dawn steps up. Tomorrow becomes today with a wisp of light and a stamping of hooves. The barn door swings open to the cold, damp delight of being alive for one more day. The horses walk out into the corral, and from there they trot to the pasture, knowing that they can gallop if they want to, just as they please. One mare steps up into a canter, her breath showing up like small clouds in the frosty air. Then the dawn steps up into a canter, too, and the distant sun peeks over the tops of the pine trees in the beautiful, silent woods.

James Lee Jobe 

To study the way of enlightenment is to study the self. To study the self is to forget the self. To forget the self is to be actualized by myriad things.

Eihei Dogen Zenji

cupping my hands like the fresh snow on the mountain.
cupping my hands like pulling pearls from mollusks.
cupping my hands to the chilling sound of another round being chambered.
cupping my hands like the moon whispering stories to the starlight.
cupping my hands like the government that spies on its own people.
cupping my hands as the refugees are turned away.
cupping my hands like the hungry, frightened child who was jailed at the border.
cupping my hands to hold the bread.
cupping my hands to hold the water.
cupping my hands like the baked, dry land that cries out for water.
cupping my hands like the wind as it slides through the trees.
cupping my hands like the tears of the forgotten.
cupping my hands as even more people become homeless.
cupping my hands as even more people fall to the bullets and bombs.
cupping my hands like the intentions of the river.
cupping my hands like hope when it bursts into blossom.
cupping my hands to offer love.
cupping my hands like the truth of the prophet, bless'd be his name.
cupping my hands like the truth of the buddha, the dharma.
cupping my hands like the final breath of the very old.
cupping my hands in prayer.
cupping my hands in prayer.
cupping my hands in prayer.

James Lee Jobe

The only thing that is ultimately real about your journey is the step that you are taking at this moment. That's all there ever is.

Eckhart Tolle

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jlj