Flathead

Flathead

What to say of this nature?

Paddled to the middle of this self,

Water lapping at stone,

Immovable and time bent,

Breathed in obscure color,

Snow capped laughter,

Pine and sun/affected and unmoved.

The water churns and rises, never halting.

I fix myself against the backdrop of Heaven

As if cloaked by the very thought,

These dusty places give birth to every breath and bone.

Skimming the surface,

Every drop of water,

Reflects and returns.

Find no clinging!

This moment will soon disappear:

Have you swallowed it’s fatty juices?

Rising over each crest,

Every bang whipping us out of our monkey minds,

The bell at the beginning and end.

Soak the dust,

And it becomes mud

& sticks to our bones,

Forms us and breaks our flesh.

I am dieing quicker than this scene.

How wonderful to know

It will be here long after I am gone!

Roots stretched over,

Grains meditating in the wind:

What secrets do they know?