Inspiration From Looking Down


A Stone On The Ground.

What first catches our eye
Might not be what we need to see
Just the attraction
To show us the Truth within the Beauty.

When I took this photo I was relaxing in a garden.  Having looked up and around at all the beauty of Nature, I glanced down. There at my feet was the most beautiful refreshing “arrangement” of fallen pieces of Nature’s bloom.  After drinking it in, I took this photo.
A couple days later I looked at the photo,  and saw the stone. That is what I needed to see.

Inspiration sometimes comes from looking down.


Looking Down


Looking down as I pass by.

Looking down as I stroll.

Looking down as I walk.

Looking down at the cracks in the pavement
Looking down at stone slabs and holes
Looking down at the uneven, mixed-textured roadside
Placed there for ambling travellers.

Looking down as I go.

Looking down as I think.

Looking down as I carry my load.

Looking down but never at my feet
Looking down ignoring the pain in my toes
Looking down not seeing the others
Looking down even as I .

Looking down. Why don’t I raise my eyes?

Looking down. What is so attractive there?

Looking down. ‘Cause there there is nothing to surprise.

Going Around In A Circle


Going around in a circle
Circularly circulating
Which way to go?

A circle is not a direction
Neither is it a destination
Yet some are always going there:
Around in a circle.

Circumnavigating the issue
Circumventing the point
Spinning confusedly:

Going around in a circle
Not approaching
(even in a roundabout way)
But repeatedly repeating:
Hoping things would change.

Litter Not My Mind


Litter not my mind
With your unwholesome thoughts .
Litter not my mind
With your foolish ideas.

Litter not my mind
With your silly longings.
Litter not my mind
With your spiteful words.

Litter not my mind.

My mind is as a bed of Roses
Fragrant with love.
With peace and beauty garlanded
With truth and justice underlaid
With ne’er a thorn to punish
Those resting there.

The Cathedral


The Light shone through the Cathedral
Amidst the chattering of the crowds
It came in through the stained-glass window
Where the Saints and Kings were stood.
It stilled the mind and calmed the heart
As the lit candles burned
Sending their owners’ prayers
To where they would.

The crowds were divided by origin and motive
Some were just there just to look
Others were tourists on their Life’s way
Not seeing the homeless or beggars by the door
Eating their sandwiches with downcast eyes
Fervently seeking somewhere to hide
Their gaze, and thereby their state
Of being.

The lookers and the tourists kept up the chatter
As the lone readers of that Book
Remained still consumed with the reading
Quietly devouring, needingly pleadingly
The words that might allay their fears;
Taking the Light for granted
As a means to an end
Not the answer to their prayers.

No one was kneeling. None singing.
Many were strolling around curiously
Curious as in a Department Store
Where the goods on display elicit longing.
Some stood silently as if waiting
-Expecting Hoping Wondering-
For the cataclysm of a caved-in roof
Or the collapse of a building.


The Light shone through the Cathedral
By way of the stained-glass
Where the Saints and Kings were stood
Filling the void, the cavity
With something more than mere mortality
Not disturbing Man in the search
For what could not be grasped,
But only apprehended.