What can I do with this world but laugh.

Joe Papagoda

A hot day in the valley 

The sun shines on our noses and our necks

Children in the parks 

The sun is also upon their flesh

An old dog sleeps in the sunshine

A young one sleeps in the shade

Our noses tell us someone is barbecuing ribs 

From behind a nearby house

Smoke rises in a thin line

We are walking and with every step 

Our shoes caress the broken sidewalk

An old song comes to mind

And when we are sure we are alone

We begin to sing aloud

-----

It is still early in the spring 

Yet it is as hot as summer

Children in the park stare at the pool

It won’t open for more than a month

I am becoming an old man

What can I do with this world but laugh

-----

Later than midnight

I am awake in the emptiness

Footsteps outside my window

Could it be my son coming home

Shivering outside I can see

It is just a neighbor’s cat

Slinking by

The old cat gives me a look

And keeps going

Only the grief remains

Only the grief remains

James Lee Jobe

A student, filled with emotion and crying, implored, "Why is there so much suffering?" Suzuki Roshi replied, "No reason.”

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Thanks, 

James