Listening to the silence
of a tree is quiet work.
It takes patience
to hear the silence clearly.
Sometimes, you even have
to put your ear right up
against the trunk,
but when you do hear it,
it's like music.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
a journey of awareness
Archives
-
▼
2010
(365)
-
▼
October
(31)
- Four Fruits
- When You Were Younger
- The Smell of a Rose
- Love or Hate?
- Why So Hard?
- Seven Sounds of Breathing
- Traveling by Boat
- When I Say Thank You
- Accepting Each Moment
- What Door?
- Empty and Full
- All I Want
- Casting Shadows
- Seeking for Truth
- The Silence of Trees
- Don't Miss Anything
- Green Leaf, Yellow Leaf
- Light of the Moon
- The Future Is Not a Place
- Calm Lake, Calm Mind
- Branch or Root?
- Simple Gestures
- Shedding
- Water Runs Over
- Mysterious Life
- Hard Enough
- When I Worry
- Seven Sleeps
- Acceptance
- Beyond Death's Door
- Burned Down
-
▼
October
(31)
Want to follow along?
But Wait! There's More!
Posts
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:
Sundays
Somewhere, a dog’s barking.
It echoes across back yards.
Is it an animal’s call for help?
Barking at shadows of people
Charred in burning buildings,
Or robbers scrambling over
Chain-link fences, or moles
Popping up from craters
Of the moon to burrow in earth,
Or just a dog, mashing for attention?
In this impenetrable loneliness of suburbia,
With its widowers and pensioners,
Newly separated from their families,
There’s a dog barking late at night
And all at once a sense of abandonment
Envelops what was most sacred, that
There’s someone to turn to, someone
Who still worships football and God.
[DISPOSABLE POEM OCTOBER 17, 2010]
Dr. Mike
Post a Comment