10 November 2014

The large moon
Will grow larger,
Or smaller.
But neither.

My flute is being serviced and will be back in a few days and I miss it a lot. Having it around to play is the difference between feeling sad or happy and being sad or happy, which is to say, music is for me a bridge between feeling and being and then, most importantly, releasing. However, I also have a shakuhachi now which I got a few weeks ago. It is radically different, if not difficult. My technique has improved a little due to my lips not being distracted by the flute. I like walking and playing it, although it didn't come with a head basket. And now reading about it, it looks like I actually have a hotchiku!

Crickets are rehearsing and cicadas are waking which all makes for fine summer sounds. The wasp returns to last year's nest and seals the door with the dream of another year inside. Somewhere a spider mourns.

Here are some poems from lately.

What do I know
about Peace?
Only, if I
know Peace,
I am.

My heart's song
Trembling of
butterfly wings

A poem for the morning birds,
What foolishness,
Just wake up your ears!

The beauty of the dawn
Is not for the dreamers,
But the wakers.

Who knows the sky?
Not the cloud.
Cling not to mind.

Time is a stranger
When I swim in ecstasy

Saturday evening
Despairing cry
Of a hungry cat

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