writing

today's pure process
will not be true tomorrow
and still life is good

stone

naked prayers write
themselves in the darkest caves
word gardens of life

spirit

who speaks of silence?
who listens to its meaning?
who is not alone?

dreams

age yawns and slowly
falls asleep forming new life
chiseled in my mind

walking

prayers play the flute
on the cool morning hillside
in tune with the wind

farm

sweat returns downward
toward the earth which struggles
with the field workers

eternity

my mind is secure
my soul has its own address
my body wanders

outside in (breath)

contemplating stars
contemplating human hearts
both expanses great