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What's Next?

One path to peace is,
ask for what you want,
accept what you get,
then ask again,
at a different time,
in a different way,
from someone else.

Be still, quiet and cling to nothing
but move on to what's next
and trust totally,
you get what you need.

With deep trust
differences you make
matter as much as
differences you are,
so celebrate difference,
and make a difference
in your sphere of influence.

Deep Trust

Trust is a problem
as much as a path to peace
of mind and world.

People and nations
differ in their views
of what they can trust.

But what if you see
the problem may be
you beg an object.

What if your faith sees
deep enough to need
no object of trust.

What if you see through
faithism, all kinds,
and see common ground.

Notice when next
your belief
causes grief.

Meister Eckhart's Beggar

Good morning rain

    rakes the roof

        runs quick the drain

            quenches the thirst
                of the good earth

                    and makes good
                        on the promise

                            every day's
                                a good day

Plaster Falling

By an old ladder
you reach the high roof
and breathe your youth.

Gloved hands awaking
to keep the quiet
you rake the new leaves.

In the wet wake
of May-morning rain
your good work is quick.

No mind, no effort
you see the source
of the ceiling woe.

You will grieve or not
by what you believe
or naught.

In time things happen.

Tea Ceremony

You sit the kitchen table
quiet, alone, while squirrels
walk the wire, finches feed, and
the wind blows wild the feeder.

Not a sound intrudes and still
the water boils for tea,
your thirst rises like incense.

Must a thing have context?
Can no thing be without ground?

You, without a point of view?

West Wing
(For Marie)

Does anyone
know anything

Of more delight
than a genie

Who can write gold
TV drama?

You see made bare
a brilliance

You sense bold
a presence

Of godly strength
like cold orchids.

Yeah. What's next
for Sorkin?

The Room Plain
(For Theophane Boyd)

The room plain to see
proves bound by four walls;
nothing unusual there.
As you might expect
the ceiling's overhead
but lower than your habit,
and beneath your feet
flooring's made of stone.
Like any room you've
been in, this one has
a way in serving
as well a way out.

You respect the space
and it's arrangement
but you expect not
to be confined there
as some long ago.
All rooms by degree
fit the frame you see
with this exception,
being a monk's cell
its dimensions are
cave-like, coffin-size,
right for plain dying.