— in celebration of Roy Mattson’s newest release of sonic artistry, Flora and Fauna

seasons have a taste.

having survived late-winter poison,

the spice of autumn is on my tongue.

even this summer’s batch of sake seems sweeter

with the waxing-power of the September moon.

I don’t know what the new season holds.

between ch’an-stillness and mountain-thunder tea,

perhaps my eyes will clear and a new vision will be revealed.

— journal reflection, Eve of the Autumn Equinox, 2018 —


Across the sidewalk, a neighbor’s ringing wind chime

registers in these cells as a thousand year old temple bell.

I brush off the previous season’s red dust malaise,

and find myself pondering the nature and essence of sound.

Sound. Simple sounds.

Sounds in the dirty old city.

Sounds deep in the forest.

Sounds up in the mountains.

Sounds that drive out

the previous year’s stewing bewilderment.

Did you know in the old tongue

regret means to weep again?

Let’s don’t.

Let’s dry our eyes.

Let’s step back into The Ancient Membership.

Even from here,

I can hear the warm harmony bell

at Abiding-Radiance Mountain.

Even from here,

I can see the Lanterns of Delight

being lit again

telling poets down in the city

to climb the path to the cloud’s height.

(c) 2018 / Frank LaRue Owen (Wandering Stone Lantern) / purelandpoetry.com

sound: Hyphae / Flora and Fauna / Roy Mattson