the poetry zendo: Sunlight filters down through the branches of the trees.

The world is spinning such as it does
And the voice of a woman is lifted in song
Her sound has a strength, a richness
And I feel as if she is connected to the earth
By rock and by water, held firm by the wind
Her voice could even be the wind
A single drum joins in, a heartbeat
The rumble of earthquake, the throb of volcano
And just as I am joined to this music
A thousand women join in, a million
And the pounding of drums takes me
The power of the sacred feminine
Lifts my heart, lightens my load
And, as if magic held me, slowly
I merge with the others in the dance

James Lee Jobe

Think enough and you won't know anything.

Kenneth Patchen

You must have taken the wrong road
You have arrived at a place where people eat filth
And live in pens
Like pigs
The smell is terrible
You want to go back the way you came
But the road has one-way traffic only
There is no going back
You can stay
Or travel on
Those are the choices
From the pens
You are called by naked people
Covered with their own mess
One of them knows your name
And says it again and again
Returning to road
Feeling lost you slowly begin to walk away
First the right foot
Then the left
Then the right again
Sunlight filters down through the branches of the trees
Sunlight, beautiful and warm