Sunday, December 14, 2014


Alarmed a squirrel shrieks.

A butterfly flutters around the huge ceramic vessel on the terrace.

Strong wind through the trees.

Rhythmic the rod from the windmill cling clangs as it bangs against the pipes.

The curtain moves a little.

Ferns sway to and fro.

Thoughts pop up
and fingers tap.

There is no, 
there never was
a person at the center
of perception.

The sense of separation,
of being a person is also

By whom?

By what?

A seamless totality 
where everything appears and disappears.

Just the happening of this moment.

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