If it were not for my familyon that fresh night of April,I would have walked to You indefinitely… My steps, one after the otherNo one
Étiquette : poetry
And suddenly, an August wind
My thoughts aggregate in a crazy ball.Their increasing density oppresses to the point of shaking the diaphragm and leaving it stunned,its strings oscillating at the
Inner Shift
Inner disengagementThese two hands suddenly partThe being is observed.Suddenly, it becomes its own object of study, Inner uncouplingThe eye recedesFrom the psychic vehicle,The eye looks
Your Big Fat Nose
Could it be that everything is given to us,There, always, just in frontOf our big fat and doubting nose? ©ndraw@protonmail.com – Dec 2022–Recueils–Participations-Pratique
Article Shelter
I write, one step at a time,I walk with a pen in my hand. On a pathless paper,I meander in letters of laces. My bag
Absolute Courage
In Zazen, non-doingIn the face of rising fearThere is nothing to doThe absolute courage of the sitting man. ©FJ June 2022 —Groupe de PratiqueRecueils —
Shaping Zazen
It is true that the zazen of someCarries the zazen of others.A blow in the glass gives the shape of sitting,Collective and individual,Through an invisible
Writing Initiates
Writing initiates the passage through the mental spectrumof a fine-toothed comb. Cornering statement,A salvation escape in the breach of light that is taking shapethrough an
Secret Nights And Day Dullness
Some trees, we are told, wake up at night.By scintillating, they offer a scenery to a whole tribe of beings who are then agitated while
The Call 1/3
Without a doubt, now that I’m looking back on my life these last 15 years or so, I can tell there has been a call.Something
May The Moon Never Go Out
As the night rises, and the day sets,The silence that emerges is especially favorable to the sound of envy: desire, having, being-as much, if not
The Jungle Of Old Age
In the thick jungle of old ageThrough which I walk,Tree branches, bushes brambles,Wild animals running in the opposite direction,All damage, puncture, further tear off my
Straw Fire (1/2)
Exhausted beings, knotted together,Entangled in others’ links,Littering the ground with ashes,Burned skin and worn-out hearts. In this place, however, the fatigue of the soul,May teach
Silent Thunder
I met his gaze of light,The sparkle coming out of his eyes,Was reflected in mineNaked truthUnvarnished happinessRecognition has taken placeA second or twoAscending spiralCollapse of
Universal Mother Bird
The Mother Bird feeds the Nestling away from all notion of time.The nest is unconditionally offered to the bird who might land. Sitting Zazen in
Notes & Silence 