A Well-Deserved Vacation
Let’s take a
well-deserved vacation
from thinking
and never return.
Let’s go visit that strange place
where all we hear
is the sound that’s there,
And what we see is
what we have never seen before.
Let’s go to that place
where all we smell
is the sweet aroma
of the until-now-ignored
strange flowers.
Let’s take walks
over pebbled trails
and cobble stone pathways
to feel under our feet
the pressure of strange,
massaging fingers—
smooth ones and rough ones.
Yes.
Let’s take a well-deserved vacation
to that place...
Where thinking is a waste of time…
Where not thinking is everything.
When Your House Crumbles
The quest is over
when your house is destroyed
by varmints
and unforgiving storms.
It’s that moment in time
when your house crumbles
And the hallucinogenic
sense of longing
enters what once was
disguised emptiness.
It’s that moment in time
when all that matters
Are solitary walks
through unexplored paths
roofed by embracing elms
pierced by a shower of sunlight.
The quest is over
when the sanctuary
of shallow dreams and desires
crumbles into ashes of nothingness.
Why waste energy on saving the beehive?
And not enriching the life of a crippled bee,
Why waste energy saving a forest that may not survive,
And not on enriching the life of a crippled tree?
To tend to the roses in our egoistic gardens they toil.
Should we asked by the unborn and the departed,
“What have you worked for, proud and stubborn hearted?”
Would the wind reply, “To nourish this man’s hard and sterile soil”?
