My task is to build a path
out of the rocks I dig up
from the ground of my life.
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a journey of awareness
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2010
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April
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- Keeping Secrets
- Busy Days
- Seven Rivers
- What Does It Matter
- Why So Hard?
- The Power of Faith
- The Horizon as Reminder
- In God's Image
- Love One, Love All
- Empty Questions
- Making a Count
- Open or Closed
- Not Enough or Too Much
- Born as One
- Nothing Lasts
- Divine Secret
- Destroyers
- Capturing History
- My Task Now
- Remembering Why
- Watching for the Answer
- Reality Has No Substance
- Seeing Beyond Egos
- Two Faces of Work
- Comparing Notes
- No Familiar Path
- Too Soft, Too Hard
- The Mystery of Dying
- Determined
- Why So Many?
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April
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About me
- HK Stewart
- I grew up in Christian fundamentalism, went to hell, came back, became a Presbyterian then a Buddhist Presbyterian, and now I'm a profane Presbyterian Zen Taoist -- not that I'm into labels or anything. Here's what I've learned so far: The more you know, the more you know you don't know.
1 comment:
Last Space Shuttle
What crumbles in my hand
Is my hand. Mud loses its
Heraldic icons, fossilized
Horsefish becoming sand,
Unburied corpses from
A forgotten epidemic
Fallout that emptied cities
And poisoned the water --
Nobody to wash the feet
Of the dead whose nails
Keep growing. Mud writhes
In my hand, microscopic
As the mechanisms of
Empire feed the mechanisms
Of ants, worms, and insects.
[Disposable Poem April 12, 2010]
Dr. Mike
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