a reminisce poem

once
long hair
 viking blonde
swept and fell
over these frets


today
 as razored head bows
loose monk robes
flow over
ringing strings

dawn fox

turkey feathers blow loose
twirl in the wind
just off the trail

old fox slinks home
low in the first dawn shadows
sated, but cold

Abbess at Dawn

no dawn daylight
no bird songs sounding
yet the Abbess awakes
to her day of duty

the tired monk rises
flicks on some low lights
brews her favourite tea
prepares a path
for his most loved one

Coffee Ceremony

good old well water
from the deep and cold
right mix of beans
a few lighter browns
many more darks

ground up precise
bang the grinder
shake loose the
last few remnants
of this perfect blend

now the brewer
today...Bodum

boil, pour, soak, wait
a few grinds bubble
float up...wait
a solid patient pause

ready - press slow n'steady
this most sacred brew
for the tired monk

the last winter poem

late night
low snow plough rumbles
back-up beeping
blue lights flashing
metal blade scraping - shooting sparks

the tired monk
now awake
picks up his shovel
joins in

night in the snow temple

i)

snow is laying in thick
trees bend
branches snap
temple beams creak

power flickers twice
     dies

tired monk keeps on
reading
by candle light

ii)

even the candles
     die
red wax on the temple floor

tired monk strums
a few lost n'lonely chords
this old guitar has new strings
resonates deep
into the dark