in a dream anything is possible

raindrops like teeth  the enamel of god
a horse of lightning  a tractor of thunder
the muddied boots of the children
waiting forlornly by the front doorÂ
a wet winter here to move waterÂ
back to the earth and back to the ocean
you can cry or laugh or find a drum to pound
you can catch a bus to dayton or tulsa
this isn't fate  this isn't preordained
if I were foolish enough to make predictionsÂ
or claims I would tell you of dark-hairedÂ
dark-eyed girls dancing to romani music
I would say that the government is lyingÂ
about the shape of the world
lying about the dreams that wake youÂ
with a hard shudder
lying about everythingÂ
I am living now in the silence of things
sleeping in the dusty corners
accept the finality of the human experience
raindrops like teeth  the enamel of a godÂ
I am a being of light
and I refuse to answer to anyoneÂ
james lee jobeÂ

Jan Killian
The bad news: You're falling through the air with no parachute. The good news: There's no ground.
Chögyam Trungpa

The mirrors are still at last, and you are so tired. You are listening to the wheezing breaths of the smokers. Even your mind is tired, and you don't really want to think anymore, but you don't know how to stop. From a dark corner of your consciousness you sense that the animals are slowly returning to the forest, and you wish that you could join them. You will die one day and until then you will never be free of this reality. Yes, there are cracks in time, you've seen them, but they are too small to slip through and escape. Your life is a slender being, moving from shadow to shadow, slinking in memory and loneliness. The room smells of disinfectant and the nurse with the cart is bringing the medication. You check the mirror one more time and then look up at the plain-faced clock and see that three minutes have passed since the last time you looked.
james lee jobeÂ

Just Enough
Soil for legs
Axe for hands
Flower for eyes
Bird for ears
Mushrooms for nose
Smile for mouth
Songs for lungs
Sweat for skin
Wind for mind
Nanao Sakaki

Grandmother went to sleep full of the emptiness that everyone is afraid of. She is sleeping across a blue landscape, under a green sky. This is a land that smells like jasmine, but that doesn't tell us much. Grandmother is dreaming of a day like this one, only in heaven, not here. She wants to take walks above the shore. She wants to sip tea and read those old books again, the ones she always loved. In a dream, anything is possible—flying, a new love, you can even be young again. Grandmother isn't afraid of the emptiness, she knows better than that. Look at her, smiling in her sleep. So peaceful, so relaxed. Grandmother isn't waking up again. Â
james lee jobeÂ

Mohamad Hafez
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JamesÂ