What the mountain told me

There are no words is a lie
There are more words than we can hold
Than we can use

With a broad net there is no meaning
With a fine net we express

First work of Summer '06

Turn the wheel
into infinity
from the grayness we evoke
a sunbeam explosion
the green of trees
Ten thousand yellow blossoms

There is no stillness
in the water
it breathes the life-breath
of all seas and lakes.

Our heart-song is softly growing
with the silence of summer
to eclipse each other
with an eternity of loving kindness

we become less-

In this season,
grow.

Revitalized

What You Should Know To Be A Poet
by Gary Snyder

all you can know about animals as persons.
the names of trees and flowers and weeds.
the names of stars and the movements of planets
and the moon.
your own six senses, with a watchful elegant mind.
at least one kind of traditional magic:
divination, astrology, the book of changes, the tarot;

dreams.
the illusory demons and the illusory shining gods.
kiss the ass of the devil and eat shit;
fuck his horny barbed cock,
fuck the hag,
and all the celestial angels
and maidens perfum'd and golden --

& then love the human: wives husbands and friends
children's games, comic books, bubble-gum,
the weirdness of television and advertising.

work long, dry hours of dull work swallowed and accepted
and lived with and finally loved. exhaustion,
hunger, rest.

the wild freedom of the dance, extasy
silent solitary illumination, entasy

real danger. gambles. and the edge of death.