Sweet Budding Credo

#Notes of the Wordsachord, 2016

People-watching stars cease their speculating, the millions of them so keen on eternal human movements. In the morning: Pit-stopping at the city park to see what sojourners are gathered with notions of kind bud and a drink or two and open space time — no one is gathered like that for now; I go on to meet with Ladeuzeplein under clocktower-eyes proudly watching the family dance on the ground. Brother Building and the others tell me of the sun and reflect it on my face, I smile and meditate. At night we’d met in our own hightower, what we called home-for-now:

We talk of dreamtime and walkabouts and let it be

Calvin tells limoncello myths and we drink it up

We can laugh over spilt wine

our philosophy is not so abstract

We all feel it now and drink more from the cup

Life and class in session in time

We live Leuven and breathe the bamboo grove, our monastic cell, Pure Land Hall, this literary town, place

Leven Leuven Leven

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