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Literature Text
As a river flows to sea
So does life flow out of me
It is the speed of human plight
A love that's wrong but feels so right
Like bells that chime into the wind
As fleeting as ones thoughts within
The ghosts of every young affair
The links in chains that hold you there
A time for wisdom was the past
Abstained the truth and let us clash
And as the river turns to stone
So does the path that pointed home
So does life flow out of me
It is the speed of human plight
A love that's wrong but feels so right
Like bells that chime into the wind
As fleeting as ones thoughts within
The ghosts of every young affair
The links in chains that hold you there
A time for wisdom was the past
Abstained the truth and let us clash
And as the river turns to stone
So does the path that pointed home
Literature
lightkeeping
As you pick up the lantern in front of you, you find it filled with a busy, buzzing flurry of lights. Somebody stuffed fireflies into this one - not the proper thing at all. You unfasten the latch, open the door; the little bugs stream out gratefully. They bathe the wayside in a faint glow for a moment, then vanish in the pitch-black of the Long Night one by one.
You settle down cross-legged and gently put the empty lantern onto your lap to dream up a star.
Literature
Sand Mandala
One grain at a time
Is how I treated our days together
Each color of each grain
I studied the Tibetan monks—
Their deliberate lean over all that is
The chants that made and moved stones
With the authority of time
The geometry that melded with song and soul
To emerge in carefully placed vibrant pigment
Colors that seared in vision
What a blink or eyes closed in dream still saw
Look away—they’re still there
In moments of silence
A ghost of something, but
Bright shimmering
Essence
Deepest reverence
All things
Everything was there
Each grain
Each color
Handled
Placed—the math, the experience, the grandeur
Intended t
Literature
Moral Letters to Lucilius
My dear Lucilius.
Once again I encourage you to ponder
The virtues of temperance
And tranquillity.
My dear Lucilius.
Long have I written to you incessantly,
And told you tales of brave souls
That you might copy them.
We are both making great progress.
My dear Lucilius.
Our friends tell me
That in your party nights you pass by my house
And sing just a bit lower
So as not to wake me up.
I have indeed a light sleep,
Though not from cares,
But from the light electric the gods
Planted inside me,
In my spirit,
And that keeps me up at night
While I write to you.
My dear Lucilius.
Tell me news. Some say
That every night you sing
Until your lips stiff
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