let the little ones know peace
Poetry is the lifeblood of rebellion, revolution, and the raising of consciousness.Â
Alice Walker
____________________
The bats fly at sundown, all day longÂ
they have sleptÂ
under the I-80 Yolo Causeway. They flyÂ
over the bottomlandÂ
near the Sacramento River at night, eatingÂ
mosquitoes. Quite nice of them. The riverÂ
flows to San Francisco Bay. The batsÂ
return under the causeway by sunrise.Â
They might rest with full stomachs, butÂ
they rest without thanks. The earthÂ
spins as always.
James Lee Jobe
Blue Rock-Thrush, Oregon
Mark Sanchez, first sighting in America
Our practice as Buddhists is not what style of meditation, which sutra, or which teacher we revere above all else. Our practice is to experience this single moment of faith and understanding, to abide in it, and to share it.
Mark Herrick
____________________
The burrowing owls stand and watch closely
as I walk by. Have I come to threaten them? No.
This is the anxiety of death that we all know.
The burrowing owls, small, colored like the earth,
like this cold ground, seem to relax a little
as I pass by. I can see this. O cold night,
let them know peace and comfort, these little beings
who look at me and think of danger.
James Lee Jobe
Dariusz Klimczak
Please support this blog...with a cup of coffee. Thanks!
JamesÂ