Apricocks... Be kind and courteous to this gentleman; Hop in his walks and gambol in his eyes; Feed him with apricocks and dewberries, With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries; The honey-bags steal from the humble-bees, And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes, To have my love to bed and to arise; -Shakespeare: Midsummer Night's Dream
Monday, October 1, 2012
Going
Going
The rain pouring down today
Conjures Hiroshige's bridge
Straight hard lines of water
Bearing down on villagers crossing
Burdened with their stuff of life
What bridge shall I cross
In the spring in Japan
A Zen bridge to my final years
Bridge to caring or indifference
To the vicissitudes of existence
The water washes my memory
Those violent passions past drown
In the rain that falls on my mind
Massaging me like the face of my
Lover pressed against my chest
So many paths pictured woodcuts
Offer me a Tao of my own
For now as I imagine passing
Through forests along lakes
With Shinto shrines to ancestors
There the spirit world the so-called
Hallucinations of Shamans no less
Perceptions than mine of this rain soaked
Day as I wait out the time to my
Next embrace to my next journey
Jack
10-1-12
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