The Business of the Recluse



The recluse is he who
loves nature more than man
for man is arrogant
and nature is natural

the recluse cares not for
the politics of civilization
and the inflated idea of

a currency that is not real
the dollar of this or that country
and imaginary territory
of this or that people

and imaginary Gods of this or that
origin, that is innovated
by this or that gestures
and who gets credit when

the credit is due to nature
the recluse not understanding
man’s self-importance
lives a life of contemplation

not only breeding for man’s dominance
not only mating for pleasure
but with an eye for the universe

and looking for signs of the cosmos
in nature and the history of man
and for the future that has yet

to be born, the recluse
has an internal being made for
not only for her personal affairs

but for wisdom, art, knowledge
and the formula of love that
could one day save humanity.

On Buddha’s Birthday


I let go of all purses
All errors, all formulations
To recharge myself with
Non-duality, I go back
To the frequency of nature
I will to turn transparent
A sexless equanimity
Where all thoughts are exhausted
In the no-mind of flower-bliss
That land where the supreme
Is my front and back door
There, from the Divine’s heart
I will not know others and their
Trials, but I will smile back at them
With light of the butterfly’s arrival
With the knowing smile of the flower opening
I let go of all sights and desires
All attempts to possess escape me
To recharge myself I unhinge myself
From all that is not pure, so what is then left?
Nature’s course will allow me to
Melt into the stars I’ve studied alone
I have been too lazy to be ambitious
I throw the bundle of twigs in the fireplace
All that was once my life, I retire it
To the croaking solitude of the hermit life
The moonlit nights of early spring
Will have room for me to stretch out my legs
I always craved the ultimate reality
Where Buddha died in Ananda.

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