The Tao That

the Tao that is spoken cannot be heard

the Tao that is grasped still feels like the air

the Tao that is shared cannot be communicated

the Tao once observed is thereby forever altered

the Tao that is finally written

does not contain a single word

the Tao that is measured is thus resized again

the Tao once forgotten returns to its course

the Tao that is captured acts as does water

it reveals only the shape of its container

the Tao glimpsed as mere shadow

yields hints of its true nature

the Tao given off by events unrelated

forms the overtones stored within an echo

the Tao once grasped

evaporates quickly into nonsense

the Tao that is denied

accepts each and every argument

the Tao once visualized

dissolves like a dream upon reflection

the Tao exists not within us

but can fill our minds just the same

the Tao truly described

has no real outline

the Tao pursued

joins the moving shadows

the Tao defined

has no meaning

the Tao that is realized

lights our path without a source

the Tao imagined

is a dream of dreaming

the Tao ignored

is perfectly reflected

the Tao defiled

soils only the observer

the Tao once forsaken

creeps back from every side

the Tao clung to

does not remain on the fingers

the Tao not completed

gains eternal life

the Tao not considered

is freed to be revealed

the Tao not isolated

keeps to itself

the Tao not evaluated

retains its full potential

the Tao is not dilated

yet expands with the universe

the Tao not distanced

remains far away

the Tao not visible

is much easier to see

the Tao not called upon

gives forth a flood of answers

the Tao not present

outlines the entire truth within

the Tao not reconsidered

is considered once too often

the Tao not focused directly upon

reveals its minutest details

the Tao seen as shattered

is identical in each smaller piece

the Tao that is analyzed

is an unsorted and incomplete fossil

the Tao that is broken

is perfect in all respects

the Tao that bubbles from within

has a source outside the spring

the Tao that is filtered

gains impurities but loses nothing

the Tao that is polarized

is the same on either side of the filter

the Tao that fills the night sky

travels outside the speed of light

the Tao that covers everything

drifts down in spaces between the snowflakes

the Tao that lasts forever

never existed as it struck you

the Tao of uncountable infinities

exists outside of The Life Force

the Tao effects that we see

occur without actions that we could measure

the Tao that we will never know

we ignore at our utmost peril

the Tao that stretches back beyond forever

recurs completely in each smallest instant

In The Spring

In the strong Spring runoff, mercy bubbles quite near the surface

In the leaves that open, hands reveal a secret

With the cleansing showers comes a joyful tear

With the longer days the sun performs an ageless miracle

By the swollen stream we sense the turning of the wheel

By the better light we see how long the road has been

From their many winter shadows now emerge the quiet plants

From their secret places come the creatures of the woods

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In the early morning there is sweet coolness still remaining

In your glance I see how much that you can feel it, too

With the help of Spring we rebind our dreams to the future

With the thaw, old leaves renew the soil that once sustained them

By the twilight we discern the changes from another winter’s passing

By the raindrops we can count every flower opening

From the smallest bud to the forest newborns, life recasts its magic spell

From a sublime cascading reaction the aspen sap begins to flow

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In the breezy shade of spruce trees, our steps are gently slowed

In the quiet of the forest we watch them at their prayers

With the energy of May's fresh sunlight the world restores itself

With the coming of each morning the earth is more reborn

By the time we start to grasp it once again, it slips away

By the raging creek we watch as the trout are awakened

From even small beginnings come wonders to behold

From quiet meditation reappear the things that every child knows

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In the last days of healthy frosts our aches retreat as our own juices flow again

In the prism of the morning dew there beckons all, a world that’s new

With the help of quiet showers something returns to fill its promise

With our happy smiles we walk and turn the hills beneath our feet

By the sunset through the clouds, both our thoughts are reflected

By the things that we hold dear, our vows remain unbroken

From us, the Spring brings forth the things that make this life worth living

From the time our eyes first opened, lent a grace both kind and gentle

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In the quiet of the meadow you can hear as good earth makes its music

In the heavy runoff you can see the richness of life’s passing

With the coming of the sweet grass, the elk seek a quiet place to calve

With great content we simply walk once more in gentle sunlight

By the spirit that animates these good woodlands we find our way once more

By the greatest fortune we can see the flowers bloom again

From out of the gray stillness comes a riot of colors like joyful singing

From this great upwelling do we sense a kindly deeper meaning

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Presque Vu

There surely has to be a different sort of life but we simply cannot quite see

For there were brief periods when we felt that we were almost a part of it

A different sort of time, now ignored by us all, in our frantic rushes

Perhaps it still flows somewhere, unnoticed in the background

There can be no guides prepared by any industry to help us catch a glimpse

Just as well as most of us run blindly, nearly all the time

Though sensed peripherally for instants, it is quickly shrugged away

And we are carried on again by this vapid stream of daily lives

Outside of the phony cacophony raised over shiny baubles that are held for sale

During the brief and quiet moments in which we find the time to think

Possibly there was a vision of lives based on a different set of values

Where the sounds of diesel motors do not awaken our small children

I might have heard of a place where one listens as birds call out the coming dawn

A place where a quiet people dwell who make a slow but steady progress

Perhaps waking troubled in the night, there had been a clue

Clearly, we had seen most issues but never known quite how to face them

Maybe sleepers such as we, out walking, stumbled seeing merely our own dreams

Sometimes almost wakened, disturbed as we lurched and cast about

It seems there might have been, at times, a message left in a shaft of light

Or some trace of meaning disappearing beyond a distant ridge

Was that it there in memories of quiet farms seen from the road?

Or did I see something glimmering in the sunset waters off that lake?

I wondered why I thought that I remembered things I knew I had never seen

I did know why the way I really lived had often lead to tears

There seemed to be a message in the snowflakes that fell from all directions

Deciphering such things might have helped me to grasp what I had felt

What was that which dissolved around the corner, up ahead in the dusk?

From whence came that comforting illusion of another people in other towns?

Perhaps it was not just some advertising music and the scenery of marketing

That message almost read which came on the warm winds of early May

Driven in a hurry with the other rodents, nonetheless, were there not some moments?

Just the same, sometimes a sense of calm - amid that great confusion?

Was there not the sound of quiet music almost played and just about enjoyed?

I think I may once have started to believe, but I cannot quite remember

Many times I snapped my head back but what it might have been, was gone

But, nonetheless, I even have the memories of what I thought I saw

It seemed always to be present in the ruins of where they dwelled so long ago

Something synthesized only in our minds, many came to believe

In the blue light of the winter it came so strong that we commenced to howl

Then, straining in our excitement, we absorbed the vaster silence

Beneath the green lake waters diving, something scattered with small fish

But left my head to pop like a bubble through the surface once again

Perhaps in the quiet of a pre-dawn coolness, I saw something linger

Totally forgotten or cruelly ridiculed in the harsh light of modern life

Sometimes it suffused the very air and my coat would bristle

Too often only half-baked memories lent me precious little comfort

Maybe when birds were singing and light first began to form new shadows

Still, roaring once again, that real and terrible certainty returned in full

Watching as the trout rose taking the peaceful twilight long ago in Spring

Brute repetition finally teaches us that there is but only one true way

In the first few minutes from a summit with a view not easily obtained

Too easily our minds simply return to their deeply-rutted track

In the velvet night, what was this spectral image that may have paid a call?

But wait, no doubt can exist regarding the time spent beneath the wheel

When the snow fell yet again upon older snow, was that some somber power?

The endless stream of empty chatter quickly brings us back online

Something that kept returning despite all of what I thought I knew

Somewhere I cannot take you, whereof we both know different scattered details

From a dignified spruce, boughs outstretched, in a quiet meadow

It’s very grace, for just a moment, the most palpable of things

What was that state of mind about? Brought on by gentle music

But quickly lost in the sweat and dust and the hoarse shouting of many days

Was there not a hidden message in the patterns of the clouds at sunset?

Maybe without all the other foolish distractions, I just might have discerned

We can only hope that it is not just a pathetic illusion or by-product of the hype

That a certain set of circumstances might at last bring it clearly to the light

Neither Cause

Neither a cause nor a working

simply a rendering of meaning

not seen but reflected

like an image in the water,

once observed dissolving into wavelets

neither a loss nor a gain

outlining without any detail

working with the sunset

and just as quickly, fades away

neither in my hand nor of my mind

was that a shadow of some reflection?

neither a joining nor a parting

yet providing subtle background harmony

that might amplify some reality

neither quite alone nor a part of things we see

flowing well outside our event horizon

neither with one nor against another

vast indifference of the void

emptiness that our minds can never fill

neither part of life nor facet of death

far more than we will ever know

and infinitely less than we always feel

neither with the rain nor in the clouds

builds like lightning

and strikes as rainbows

neither close at hand nor ever far away

even when within our minds,

always remaining to be seen

neither hope for the religions nor friend of any science

might laugh had it our reason

less a guiding light than a sourceless shadow

more a riff than an algorithm

like the emergent tones from good harmony

or windsong through distant trees

Undefined Is Not

the undefined is not the autumn breeze

that sets the blazing leaves to sighing

the undefined is not the things we say

or even in our way of thinking

the undefined is not a friend to all

yet it can bear us no ill will

the undefined is not outside of us

but does not spring from within

the undefined is not attenuated

by the expansion of the universe

the undefined is not in the words we read

for it cannot be written

the undefined is not a willful force

but flows as surely as does water down a hill

the undefined is not a thing that can be bought or sold

rather is a boundless resource for anyone to use

the undefined is not an action

still it is the cause of many things

the undefined is not the people's friend

but they prosper in its alignment

the undefined is not a particle with mass

yet it acts with a force all of its own

the undefined is not the sky's reflection caught

in the smallest brook

the undefined is not in motion

but simply always fills this expanding universe

the undefined is not religious

for the religious do not seek it

the undefined is not a salmon’s gleaming blur

in its spawning creek

the undefined is not a structure

however, it is complete, without a form

the undefined is not a creature

yet we may not know the difference

the undefined is not simply the unknown

for we may have glimpsed it often as we passed

the undefined is not the tinkling of a stream

but somehow it is wrapped about that sound

the undefined is not this loneliness that we cannot escape

and though it causes nothing its effects are everywhere

the undefined is not the ignorance that surrounds us

but it is quite at home with both good and bad alike

the undefined is not in all the grains of sand

still each grain can carry its entire message

the undefined is not an ally or an enemy

but remains very close to us each and every day

the undefined is not a part of our family values

though it can be found in all our homes

the undefined is not in the flames of the campfire

yet it may be echoed in the fire’s quiet snapping

the undefined is not a mystery

even though we never comprehend it

the undefined plays no part in our daily lives

but there can be no evasion of its certain path

the undefined is not the million snowflakes

which fall in groups in all directions

the undefined is not empty

for it must surround the void

Maybe Not Too Late

when I awoke and gasped for breath I struggled to remember

a thing that I had meant to do so long ago somewhere in the past,

some promise I had made, and I was drenched in icy sweat

now, how could I have forgotten, how could I have delayed

maybe, I thought, it's still not too late…

if I really try my best

maybe it's not too late for all those things I never did

for all the apologies I did not mean

all the places I have never been

perhaps not yet too late to search for

that which was so easily avoided for so long

still there may be time enough to craft myself that Happy Ever After

when I looked round with loudly beating heart

and breaths drawn quick and shallow with a buzzing in my ears

oh sweet jesus let it be...not yet too late for me

as I strive to remember all those things I absolutely cannot leave undone

the time for their completions, once so long and far away

it seems, may have somehow simply slipped away

should I fail to complete them, if their time has past

the meaning of the rest of me is certainly diminished

and the empty blackness will be my just and final state

when I awoke and cast about in fear and nervous tension

I sensed a trap I had not even seen

until it had grown well beyond very late

I looked about quite anxiously for help

but there were no grownups standing by

I felt so alone and frightened, how might this mistake have happened

quite late it seems, quite dark and still

but my sudden, yet far beyond tardy, urgency surges

maybe, oh please just maybe, let it be not already way too late, way too long ago for me

Almost Over

I saw the starry night sky whirling about up above me once again, long ago

And I knew that it was almost over for me just the same as for all of you

As I turned the pages in your wondrous books with a warm satisfaction

It slowly came to me that it would not always be like this

Gliding down the hills with thoughtless skill and senses still intact

It grew so much sweeter as I felt my time grow ever more quickly, shorter

Listening to the soft music as the million snowflakes fell

Tears filled my eyes from gratitude as well as the approaching emptiness

Standing still but quivering with every sense on fire

It grew stronger the more I realized how soon it would be no more

Immersed in the observation of one of earth’s tiny wonders

Great hunger arose within me to see them all before the darkness bound me

As the gentle melodies brought moments of peace to my angry life

How hard I tried to stay there even though they arrived without an effort

As I heard the thunder roll about from east to west through that gentle rain

I grew so full with its meaning I might have left in peace right then

Just as anger poisoned every thought and life seemed completely pointless

A song would come to calm me and I saw again how it was almost over

When my skull was too long pierced by violent, random, pointless noise

Then proper harmony and rhythm slowed me down to show me once again

As each new world opened up to me in endless interesting possibilities

With so much left to do I knew my time must seem to come too soon

Leaping out of ordinary circumstance like some psychedelic trout

I tingled in that other atmosphere gathering brief but shining images

In your arms I lay in peace and happiness with the world held briefly at arm’s length

I flashed upon many billions of years and knew that, it was almost over

Gazing up with every molecule of every cell at peace for just one moment

Those intervals were too few in the fleeting blur that was the passing of my life

I tried to string together those brief instants when everything made sense

Tried to wear them like some beads, walking on towards rushing darkness

Got lost and turned around, cried out and stumbled blindly

Awoke inside strange dreams pointing unavoidably towards the precipice

Shattered your harmony and trampled finely-wrought creations underfoot

Awoke at intervals to apologize, unable to pay for all my guilt with simple shame

And just as I achieved the apex of my tiny leap

Glancing quickly about I sensed all at once that, it was almost over

It has always been almost over and nearly time to slip back to nowhere

My short life spent in preparation for a return to a nothing filled without even emptiness