Rescue
the moon overhead
a toad lifted from the lane
sitting in my hand
–
walking together
for the first time
your hand finds mine
the moon overhead
a toad lifted from the lane
sitting in my hand
–
walking together
for the first time
your hand finds mine
slipping off toward
an indifferent future
full of the unknown
–
the future
ruthlessly becoming
the past
no matter how far
the vanishing road takes me
I always return
–
nirvana awaits
yet I’m not
quite ready
patiently waiting
the river of time seems to
slow to a trickle
–
mayflies
in the pond
a snapping turtle
the spinning wheel turns
fingers idly making thread
while the mind wanders
–
adrift
on a sea
of imagination
faintly glowing stars
the ancient light a missive
from the distant past
–
a moonless night
our path defined
by starlight
silently stoic
the weathered lighthouse still stands
off in the distance
–
the setting sun
barely visible
through the fog
the wellspring of souls
beckons inexorably
for us to return
–
the bodisattfa
compassionately
delays nirvana
drowning in darkness
heaved out and left on the rocks
gasping for the sun
–
sinking…
yearning for
the surface
a trail of bent grass
left behind by my roaming
for you to follow
–
newly fallen snow
you’re walking
in my footsteps