The poems which were sent yesterday do not read well as they were formatted by WordPress. I’m trying to reformat and send them out more cleanly. I thank you for your indulgence
“I had dreams in Technicolor of the vast cosmos as if I were looking through the James Webb space telescope as dream consciousness was exploring your question and wrote this down:
That which is
never really was
That which was
never will be
Nothing in between
No here
or now
Just this”. Issan
A moment,
careless in one direction,
precise in every
other facet,
cuts a finger,
No
cuts my this finger.
Eyes wide,
sucking in bright red tang,
forge a sword
and a green meadow
as I tumble
Down
wide chip-strewn boulevards – Zenho
8 Deep Bows,
Issan and Zenho
No Gate Zen Center 