Open your eyes.
Listen.
Listen to the rustling leaves,
the sound of snow falling from the trees,
the gentle whisper of the stream.
The birds that sing their welcome!
That chirp in unifying peace.
Walking,
I hear the crunching of the snow beneath my feet,
among the little sounds that
awake the silence.

And around me,
the beauty of that white cover, so delicate,
so fine.
Though cold, it brings a warmth to the elements that
I can’t define.

So, while you complain about the cold,
the immeasurable horror of the inconvenience that is snow,
I beg you to reconsider with all that you know.
And indulge in this silent, liberating peace.

For in my heart lies the hope that one day,
you will open your eyes.
Awake from your dream.
And find Life
simply by listening to the wind.
 

River rushing through creek.
Water, rocks, trees,
assuming shape, knowing surroundings
invariably, flowing through law
law flowing through it
Knowledge contained in its essence

Not conscious
but the end-point is clear, intrinsic to its existence,
the embodiment of natural law.

How some assume to be the river!
With absolute certainty they insist to
know the world.

Water, rocks, trees
the creek shapes us, knows us,
but we do not know the creek. 

And yet
somehow we may take any shape
more like an uncontrollable fire
holding the freedom of
choice.

Not knowing what is ahead
nor understanding the reality we have
changed. Yet having to
think, decide and
live.

To choose our own way
to make our own creek.

Though overwhelmed by the thought of the
consequences
I embrace the thought and
go to sleep.

​