Writer and digital artist


Dissolving like rain

mural of womans’ face
mural of womans’ face
photo by Jean Philippe Delberghe on Unsplash

Moments of experience
are dissolving and flowing,
swirling and sliding
in the slipstream
of the everyday passing moment,
a slow continuous torrent
of feeling and knowing,
touch, light and sound,
like rain streaming
off the windshield of a car,
or the slow flow of river water
on its way to the ocean.

One day
we’ll maybe find
we’re dissolving gently into
an endless conscious space,
the unlimited consciousness
that’s always been inside us,
and we’re realizing
it’s everywhere, in everyone
and we’re experiencing
the last moments
of our life as a human being.

The transience of all experience
reminds us of the impermanence
and fragility of a human life. …

Like echoes

Image for post
Image for post
image by Eduardo Rocha Dudu from Pixabay

Memories like layered echoes
of long-forgotten dreams
dance in the fluid surface
of the moment,
as unseen cosmic poetry
writes itself into the orchestration
of swirling eddies
in the nearby river,
and the synchronization
of every electron,
and every day that comes along
may be the last
we’ll ever have,
while every moment
is another chance to dance
with something inexpressible
in the Universe,
that silent knowing presence
expressing the truth,
the lived reality
of being human.

And while sunshine
through nearby trees
makes liquid patterns
on the wall
and moments drift, slide and glide
and slip away,
like the streaming shimmer
of late-night headlights
on a ceiling,
all awareness seems joined,
connected, woven
into one shared space,
as warm air drifts by,
and the rhythmic clank and chug,
and rumble,
of nearby building work
fills the air. …

Drifting through our mind

Image for post
Image for post
photo by Jurica Koletic on Unsplash

As life passes by,
there’s a flow,
a living stream drifting slow,
as impressions, feelings, moments
occur briefly in an inward space
before fading
like footprints on a windy, snowy road
or echoes of the clank of distant rigging
that linger,
while rain clouds blow
across the sky.

Like light reflected
from a nearby mirror
that shimmers on the ceiling,
or like smoke that drifts through space
making shadows
and blending with the morning air,
there’s no way to hold experience,
it’s always slipping through our fingers
like water slipping through a grating.

And sometimes,
there are those moments,
like reflected sunlights’ dance,
or your laughing glance,
in the mirror of the café
where we met,
moments transient,
when all experiencing seems joined,
into the one shared heart
of our being
and all life breathes
with one breath. …

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