Gassho (a tribute to Rilke and Dogen)

“The future enters into us, in order to transform itself in us, long before it happens”

Meaning and matter are not to be found in a net cast from mind to Future moment

The blossom of all possibilities rests in your hands; why adorn a distant grave?

The now is not your procession. No matter how the foot falls, an action Now betrays tomorrow’s mirage

Petals falling under anxious winds, every spiral uncertain

spinning clefts of wasted time evade the calculating eye

yet we conceive the palaces of our end, foundations of fear, columns of doubt

and charm a reaper’s groom

or court a bride of hope alabaster

the Present lifts the veil, a white skull crumbles and shatters

and so with any structure crafted on an absence

will fall as flowers fell

so bring your starving heart, drop the parched bouquet

upon the garden of today

where the naive light of morning ripens into wizened dusk

and the sweet soils swell with acceptance

for your beating, aching shape

the quenching waters of desire

will ease the throb to steady pulse

and I will be your gardener

“If you are unable to find the truth right where you are, where else do you expect to find it?”