steve

A Poem on Emptiness

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So as not to interrupt the haiku thread:

 

 

All of being screams

in order that the rainstorm

may soak to the bone...

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...ecstatically blissful and wet

she tiptoed amongst the greenest bamboo grove;

save for the whispers of old leaves

and an old cricket's chirp

the only other harmony she discerned

was the faintest 'plip...plip...plip'

as droplets of the softest rain

trickled down a million hollow bamboos.

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...ecstatically blissful and wet

she tiptoed amongst the greenest bamboo grove;

save for the whispers of old leaves

and an old cricket's chirp

the only other harmony she discerned

was the faintest 'plip...plip...plip'

as droplets of the softest rain

trickled down a million hollow bamboos.

 

Clouds drifted across the night sky,

The Moon heavy and full above,

shafts of moonlight danced upon her skin,

Water droplets glistening as she moved.

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So as not to interrupt the haiku thread:

 

 

All of being screams

in order that the rainstorm

may soak to the bone...

 

Bone turns to water

Water turns into steam

Steam rises up

To answer those screams

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Not much of a poet, but i was doing laying s-m this morning and somehow created this?

 

 

A vortex spins

A river flows

All returns to one

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(Hi Old Green! So nice meeting you last weekend...)

 

 

From the void

The sound;

From sound

The manifest.

From manifest

The sound returns

To the void.

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the baby cries out

and we listen and wonder

what does she want now?

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