What could turn
My words
To embers
Before they
Reach your
Hearth.

Last night
A dream
In the Himalayas.
A monk standing
Next to me…

The quality
Of attention
Precise, full
Unwavering

Meet the edge Of what troubles
You most…

Somehow & All the sudden
I am entirely human…

My desperation
Is a bottomless well…

The soul tasting and touching
Transforms darkness into gold…

Your work has come to an end,
Your life has just begun…

Coming to a halt
Strategies acknowledged
They disappear…

Although everything else failed, This moment is as good
As it ever was…

Each morning,
As I sit down to write
I act as if the fabric
Of reality could bend.

The gate-less gate
Where the finite
Meets the infinite,
Is the doorway
To the pure
Inexplicable Domain.

Waste a day with me
Waste two, waste three,
By going nowhere,
Maybe we could
Carve an opening…

Beauty comes from bowing to the naked moment, before you can say a thing. This empty page needs your faithful attention, otherwise these words become untrue.

“The true expression of freedom arises where freedom is nowhere to be found.”