what they say

it's true
what they say
worlds
fade away
crumble
or implode
with the insurmountable load
of beings, ungracious
but space
is spacious
and living, forgiving
we find our center
where the lender
and the debtor
learn each one
better

what passes for a political view around here

the Buddha
holding up a flower
is about as progressive an act
as I can think of

if we are doing more
or less
in my mind
we are spinning
our wheels

still, there is much to be done
let it be done
but keep the eye of your heart
on that flower

to complicate matters (OCD days)

the hospital chaplain asks
"Who are you to tell God, No?"
but never inquires
exactly
what I think
God
wants

regrets come in pairs

deaths of this nature
never ones we hope for
and do we hope for
any death?
perhaps --
the merciful end
to a painful struggle
the sudden passing
in bed

and did I love you
as I once asked you
not, "do you love me?"
but "COULD you love me?"
our love-making
contingent on the answer

and did I blame you
for an overdose, or a suicide
or that slow dulling of soul
that is addiction?

forgive me,
I truly did

refused to talk to you
because I could not understand
who you were
where you were going