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carnet de voyage

Updated: Sep 5, 2023


I


rainy season


sheets of water

freely traveling


illusion of you are going anywhere

accompanying you wherever you go

adds embellishment to the picture


to the sea

a little blue returns


a little white

egret white

to the sand


starts again

your journey

to anywhere


vastness

wherever you go



II


mekong


sun setting on mother river


your boat

whether it's moving upstream

downstream


whatever you may think of your boat

of your journey of here and there


where

if anywhere

is it going


is all left to the flow



III


what can we know and

what is it we can't


do we know


in the in-between

there

we are held by a lightness


the moment


eternal blue

where mornings

let go of their shimmer


journies

of their traveler



IV



because disease is unreal

theres's only unreal medicine to cure it

( pai-chang)


cloudy morning in han noi


lost in the maze of city noise

a lone rooster calls


barely audible

sound of flute playing

a block or two away


in the penumbra of this hotel room

beauty and vanity of all your travels

in one breath

embraced


teach us to care and not to care

teach us to sit still

(t.s.eliot)


you are forgiven for failing to learn


right here

you are closest to nowhere

than you will ever be


that sumptuous palace

home greeting you

wherever you go


raised on the dust of roads

marinated in silence


words that cure



V



denn bleiben ist nirgends


rilke's verse surges as you

pack you bag to leave han noi


for staying is nowhere


echoes of tachouang-tzi

the one who comes from nowhere

finds dwelling wherever they go


then basho's everyday is a journey

and the journey is home


signposts for pathless travelers

lest they get lost on the way


how could we get lost

if we have no path

said ikkyu


never-ending journey

emptiness


dreams of coming and going

rise and fall here


rainfall in abundance

traceless

their blessings


your innermost self



VI



hua lou

ancient capital


outside the shrine

incense burning


millenia

from a wisp of smoke

our leap

into the unknown



VII



die rose ist ohne warum

sie blühet weil sie blühet


the rose is without why

it blooms because it blooms

(angelus silesius)


a graveyard in an

out of the way place


blooming among headstones

lotuses


not for the living

for the dead not

no one's flowers

out of no why they bloom


lotus

your flame

radiance of what just is

shows itself

silently














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