a perfect imperfection

Joshua Tree National Park

The air is low tonight, pressed down to the ground, and it welcomes me like I am a victorious soldier just home from some distant war

The ground kisses the low air and caresses it, whispering sweet love words that I cannot make out, even though I listen closely


There is moonlight, star light, the street lights, headlights from passing traffic, and a sort of blue light from television sets filtering through the windows of the sad houses

Even with this light I cannot make out the tops of the trees or the roofs of the taller houses

Walking in this world brings me a loneliness, a melancholy that lingers long after the night is over

A new days begins, so what can I do but begin again as well

So I do

__________

Hanshan, the old monk, on Cold Mountain

Meditation, poems, and laughter

The winter wind howling

Across the surface of the frozen snow

__________

After dinner, standing outside in a light rain, I am connected to all creation. A perfect imperfection.

James Lee Jobe 

When you are a good flower arranger, you give each flower enough space. A flower needs space around her in order to radiate her beauty, her freshness. Therefore, you don’t need a lot of flowers.

Thich Nhat Hanh

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James