the monkeys in my head

Thomas C. Fedro 

at night the dogs and cats

leave their graves and play

like small and happy children

whose lives have not yet

been touched by sorrow

then at dawn our old friends

slip back into their graves

and deeply sleep in peace

james lee jobe

To recognize suffering is the beginning of healing.

Dr. Bokin Kim

I live free because of the monkeys in my head. These monkeys try very hard to speak, but can say only one word the way humans do; hope. They are climbing through the trees of my psyche, hand over hand. They are a part of me that doesn’t need to be accepted. When I close my eyes I can follow them, high in the upper-canopy of the jungle. I am strong, and I am pleased with my arms and hands. Birds chatter and fly away as I pass, and I break into a song about hope as I chase after the monkeys. The sunlight is dappled, filtered so sweetly by the millions of leaves.

james lee jobe

O, ah! The awareness of emptiness brings forth a heart of compassion!

Gary Snyder

cross the yuba river   stones on the far bank

stacked and balanced by passing hikers

beauty in the water and beside it

every day that we live is a gift and a blessing

every single day    each and every breath

james lee jobe

Thomas C. Fedro

link: The Hills are Writing, a poem by Isha Camara 

link: Bones and Shadows, a poem by John Philip Johnson

The gift of embracing formlessness and impermanence is a profound sense of freedom and the potential to meet each day afresh and roll with the changes. 

Gregory Seizan Clark, “The Bardo of Cancer”

Please consider showing your support with a cup of coffee. The link is just below, and is safe. Thank you. 

jlj