Three sips.

Awareness clarified.

This Way-infused way

calls me quietly

to the midnight veranda.

Another sip.

Another.

Late-Evening Empty Mind

mirroring the deep space

from which rivers and mountains flow.

Final sip.

Pen in hand.

I await for the Wide-Rambling Spirit

that first taught me how to bow down

and worship at Spoken-Word Temple.

Tightly-wound coil of the soul

loosened by way of silent illumination.

There is no such thing as aloneness

with ride-alongs the likes of Pine-Forest-Clarity-Mind.

But,…I’ll let you in on a little secret.

Every morning I awake

and ask the same question:

Who is riding with whom?


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

sound: Reverie / Resonance:Dissonance / Khyam Allami

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