On The Tao

Recommended Posts

I was going through some old boxes and came across this poem I wrote about 10 years ago. I like it still.






Words, ideas without structure,

without form

planted a seed in my heart, ever growing.


My soul now a butterfly

it comes back and alights softly on the Tao-bubble

gathering nectar and needed repose

for its next adventure.


Gentle words and parable

attempt expression of that which cannot be expressed.

Endless possibility as a destination,

it demonstrates to me

The Something of Nothing.


The most perfect painting is a blank canvas,

the most haunting melody

the moment of silence when

the conductor first raises his baton.



Barbara Ortega

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites