As the stories drift away, As the ideas fade to nothing, You are gradually left naked As a newborn babe, Birthed to a universe That is mysterious, Ever-changing, Pregnant with possibility And silent as to what it all means.
Category: poetry
Apocalypse
Every moment Is an apocalypse of the self, A turning of our hopes and dreams to sand. What we had built: nothing. What we had longed for: a puff of smoke. In this way, Even our lives as a whole can be viewed As nothing more than a planting of seeds, A fertilization of earth… Continue reading Apocalypse
The natural order
If there was ever a natural order, It is the part of you that knows To press a wound to stanch the blood, That knows to place cool cloth on the forehead Of the incapacitated, That knows. Women have always been The knowers of this knowledge, Sacred protectors and keepers Of their children. Show me… Continue reading The natural order
The Buddha within
Deep within me is a smiling Buddha, Unfurling in time, Ready to awaken. This part of me is like a child, Bright, Naked, Excitable and curious. It is who and how I am when unconcerned by image. As this part of myself, I am ready to serve. A pair of open hands, Opening yet wider,… Continue reading The Buddha within
Sadness
Into the chamber of my soul Go I, To blackest, stillest depths. Immovable, Like a creature at the bottom of the ocean, Unchanging, Like the water that surrounds it. All is quiet at the depths.
Jackson Holzberg Buckley 