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 Sep 2017 Koggeki
am i ee
tall red rubber boots on this rainy morning
bring me joy, happiness.
stomping in the puddles,
hiking in the wet wet leaves.

standing still as the raindrops
pour down over umbrella,
drops pounding the pond with intensity,
watching mother nature in action.

still winter but with little
signs of spring emerging.
green green shoots of jonquil leaves,
a bit of sun and warm will bring color.

for now the trunks of the trees are grey
and branches bare.
crows caw on this quiet wet morning
flitting from branch to branch before taking flight.

raindrops mix with creek water,
rushing down over rocks
and logs,
dams created.

such beauty and peace
on this raw morning,
such profound love is found
in the stillness and silence...

in Mother Nature
in the Tao.....
 Sep 2017 Koggeki
am i ee
ashes
 Sep 2017 Koggeki
am i ee
a friend, a teacher, a love, a companion
so warm and full of life.
reduced to grey ashes,
a small bag full.

finality in the clearest terms.
deep sorrow wells up.
hard to remember non-duality
when duality stares you in the face.

om mani padme hung
 Sep 2017 Koggeki
am i ee
straying from The Way
disharmony ensues,
confusion arises.

caught in the forms,
spinning ever outward,
deep peace lost.

moving with the forms,
ever distracting.

following deer trails,
far from the roads and paths,
alone, in Silence....

The Way arises again.

it was never lost,
only obscured.

Returning to The Way...
heart settles...
mind stills...
peace prevails.
 Sep 2017 Koggeki
am i ee
finding my way back
day by day ...
moment by moment...

but who am i?
what am i?

and
what is there to find
a way back to?
 Sep 2017 Koggeki
am i ee
feathers
 Sep 2017 Koggeki
am i ee
delicate small black feather
spotted and dotted in white
you bring such delight

small lightish-grey feather
having come to rest in the gutter
there you are found

an expected surprise this morning,
want to travel along, a little way,
with me?
 May 2016 Koggeki
Denel Kessler
I am not spring
frost thaws eternally
from shallow-rooted fronds
tenuous and unbound
susceptible to wind's constant round
battering the living flat to ground
sodden, smell of decay all around
time is fleeing
these shoulder seasons
with all their restless reasons
yet to unfold in you
sun-soaked glade
I need your rays
to germinate
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