I. Rivers, Mountains, Names
Her body: Earth-Realm bone dust.
Her spirit: Graceful, flowing ether,
Her name: Now I call her Dao-Sentiment River.
She named me, too -- after mountains not of this Earth.
I had thought it would make me solid,
but when I look to the West each day,
I still feel the river's teaching
carving another part of me away.
II. Singing, Disrobing, Flying
When I was teaching
I used to think of the wolf as my totem.
Zen-Mind following Dao,
I think it must be the cicada.
Their drifting cacophonic symphony
wafts through the humid air --
blasts through the open sliding door,
sends me traveling back
to lives where this was always the soundtrack.
every season I am stepping out of another layer of skin.
This is why, regardless of who you are,
I have nothing solid to bring you.
Cicada Teachings say:
At this rate, death will be a piece of cake.
We enter the world empty-handed
and leave the same way.
Nothing to ponder but singing, disrobing, flying.
(c) 2017 / Frank LaRue Owen / purelandpoetry.com
Sound: Maestro-Sifu ambient composer Forrest Fang, Following The Ether Sun