Poet13's Blog

Beneath the Chinese cherry tree on a cement bench still warmed by rain

I sit eyeing two frogs poking slick snouts above the surface at each end of

the small crescent shaped pond

 

dimples on a smile.

 

I assume the lotus posture touching thumbs to fingertips forming a circle

Knowledge Hand Gesture signifier of the Individual Soul’s connection with

the Supreme Soul

 

a lighted cigar in my left hand.

 

White smoke catches late afternoon light

a storm washed sky of platinum and silver

shimmering aerial phosphorescence tinged with violet and purple

 

bathed in the glow of healing rays.

 

I realize and resolve to still the inner storm to tame the turbulence

within the calm I can see at rest I can be

here now:

this much I know:

 

A cigar makes a reasonably effective personal anti-mosquito device

but you must keep puffing because when the smoke clears

tiny flying carnivores zoom in to suck the life from your tranquility

 

and there it is: us against (our) nature.

 

See! Behold!

 

I am The Smoking Buddha of Two Frog Pond

casual deity of my own creation Mighty Morphing Pan Lord of New Eden

afire with inspiration unilaterally re-inventing religion

 

new and ancient thoughts tumble from my head into the sky.

 

Intricate black strands of coalescing hydrogen molecules

finely etched chains of disintegrating atomic structures

un-entwining geometric constructs drifting up and away

sucked toward the setting sun

 

in the golden radiance of their fading a kind of clarity.

 

The signs are everywhere if you see them

signifiers or reflections of personal space and time

a lifetime totality logically organized like numbers on a clock face

 

take a look it’s all there check the time it’s never too late.