The Feather

Amazed,
I watched the feather fall from the owl gliding
to a branch of the tree just in front of me --
the feather

falling into a mass of brambles:
sacred feather

a word for which my intelligence
cannot make the sound, so like brambles
I merely accept,
that I too will turn to dust

indeed, I am already turning
which reminds me of how much I love
the scent of brown, still

I cannot say the word
so I shift to music instead:
the flute, hollow wood and wind

and the breath of spirit upon the body
and the moon rising and shining
through the tree in which the owl
has already left... wordlessly

its secret
only in the Mind of G-d...


Believe it or not, but this earth, this entire Universe, is a miracle of "small unities"... of which it is quite possible to cultivate... which is, by the way, the very purpose of the life that we have been given... You can call it Tao... You can call it the Cosmic Christ or Consciousness... Both, are true and yet, at the same time, only a hint of something deeper... a Mystery, to be sure... Be Kind... Love Much... Practice Justice... Build Peace... Feel the Earth... Enjoy Sacred Pleasure... Tribe... Laugh... Cry... Start Over...