Late autumn forest


Late autumn forest yellow gold leaves thin silver branches drawing white semi-light into crawling root darkness-not-darkness waiting-not-waiting for spring winter nothing dead nothing reborn tomorrow wind bent rattled touched hands forehead pressed into something TREE not solemn wise divine bone blood organ chakra signals to-from minds all hidden  born   moved    returned     hidden      born       moved        returned       



Letting go

Remember when I kept drawing the same card over and over until I realized it wasn’t about the card but the book and I found Tao?

It’s happening again.

Not the mapping of stars writing ancient alphabets hexagrams carefully drawn diagrams of barn renovations or words letter by letter. There’s something else.


Last night I dreamed of black bear running back and forth between us like a happy dog fear turning to sorrow as shots rang my eyes opened. Driving to town I saw crow on a wire scratching his head. Later I struck the index finger of my left hand hard with the hammer. The nail will turn from blue to black and be lost. A new one will grow in its place.