A soft woman
is simply a wolf
caught in meditation.
brimming thing on the eve of August
and when I have just finished Voltaire’s Candide
how can i but aspire to the perpetual
to wander is fantastic. to catch a breath for a second or several years, to pause. to settle. to reacquaint with the grinding stone.
if buddha is right.
and suffering is immutable. a moot, unchangeable point, then why not do this: why not “cultivate our garden” with all the breadth of singular and collective being and move through suffering likewise
Voltaire & Buddha, acquainted.
would that i wax changed yet whole
like all the phases of the moon