late year early mornings

been out
double robed against the cold
coffee is good and hot

temple dog runs inside
settles in by the stove

quiet

just a few blanket rumbles
in the halls above

Tired Monk Saints

oh these rugged saints...

the Irish one - a pugilistic pastor
somehow tough and tender   

the dread locked demon wrestler
guitar wielding evoker of tears

the beautiful one
who calls prayer "fun"

the multitude
of IAWAH angels

all of them from paramedics to x-ray techs
even the revolutionaries

God Bless 'em all.

the office

tonsured head bows...

to oft neglected
this office of prayer

a monk's duty awaits
a focus on the creator
in this time of veneration
to the created

Tired Monk - one More Game

down deep
and dusty

jumbled hockey gear piles

the tired monk
sorts
repairs and pairs socks, pads, gloves

one more game



Context:

Sorry for sounding so weary; I'm actually excited...cautiously so...to hit the ice after a two year retirement.  One more game versus my 10 year old son.  Parents vs Kids. 

the Tired Monk's City - Night

i)

black city snow flies
settles in
cold
cast in blue lights

ii)

the Tired Monk
slips through drifts
walking stick steadies
a clearing...
stars and distant city lights

the Tired Monk's City

light fades
day in the city ends
the tired monk locks
the broken glass monastery
slow traffic trek home
back to the temple


Another Blog on "the City" - No Small Town Bring Down

a little more snow



slow winter morning coffee walk
a bit of bliss really
new snow clings to old spider webs
the temple dog shivers...shakes
inside Johnny Cash sings of Christmas

a Tired Monk Discourse: Soul Whispers

some talk of love
the old tired monk
talks of letting and listening

novices gather:

listen...

let each

soul whisper

be heard