Sen-jo and her soul are separated
Shōun sits alone up on Lee Hill
the wind whips a branch out a window
grey waves lap the shore in California
the sun will set soon, in the west.
11.14.20
Sunday family Zoom-zazen
Sunday family Zoom-zazen
Seattle Oakland Massachusetts Colorado
same breath, one body, our heart beats
a continental triangle of blood, intention, and love
after, we talk of our day, the little ones, what is happy in us
sunlight shines through my window.
11.15.20
Still
Still as blue ice at
forty below
still as the second that
follows the last
still as the dawn with
no moon in sight
still as the moment
I look in the mirror
still as this page
so blank before me
still, when I know I
said the wrong thing
still at the instant I
know she has gone
still as the space between
in breath and out
still as the dead
their work here complete
still as the last breath
that will never come
still now, still here, be
still, be still
just still.
11.16.20
Rohatsu
I sat down
beneath my tree
no buddhas
to be found
stars fading, the
sky lightens
12.08.20
The lights
I walked out into the night
barefoot in the snow
to see if the
Borealis were in bloom.
Violet says she sees them
from Lakota land up
north a ways.
Only one million stars for me
no green wavy lights, just
sweet Ponderosa pine smell
and newborn icy flakes
between my toes.
12.11.20
For my friend Samantha Sokyo at her Shuso Hossen
Two planets cross paths
in the southwestern sky.
Once in four hundred years,
briefly appearing as one.
One brother,
one sister,
shining brightly,
awaking together.
Congratulations, my friend, my
teacher, my Buddha sister.
I bow as we spin past.
12.20.20
beautiful work!