White-washed Winter Mornings

 

White washed winter mornings

Crisp eternal state

Icicles on awnings

Summer's out of date

 

Cold north wind is biting

Clear clean air feels fresh

Round-the-clock street lighting

Cloudy skyline mesh

Cool inviting darkness

The whistling breeze doth sing

Brisk uplifting starkness

Alas the days of spring

 

 

(a poem from Life Without Buildings)

The Arcades of Philosophy Hall

The veil of snowfall's cold thin silence

Mutes what memory leaves

Golden temples, proud like violence

Crouch under watery eaves


Men with Zen in a timeless ritual

Follow what the third eye sees

Carving up streets in the old habitual

Humming like a drone of bees


Parvenu monks in a portico slumber

Merge in the mists of night

Man-made constructs

Love will put asunder

Here in the Valleys of Light


Lose yourself in the murmuring kingdom

Give to the mantra-laced din

Find your life in the flame-licked truth, that

Shimmers as the prayer wheels spin


Come take flight with the Dalai Lama

Dance through infinity's haze

Om Mani padme hum

Wise cities of the white walled maze