Into the forest slowly

Breathing mouthfuls of reality
I have seen my first
Sincere thought
It is patience offered to desire
The dry crumbling of thorns that
Would snag a calm
Wandering heart
The very end of suffering
As star birds make their
Death flight to the moon
And what is resigned
Begins in earnest
Would you my patient woods
Have me now?

mooooving water

we praise moving water while building dams
trying to hold it all in our greedy minds
every step
another Buddha to kill
Buddhas as far as my eyes can see
no further than
the span of a breath