the wish fulfilling jewel

    a Found poem, for his Holiness the fourteenth Dalai Lama
 
 
the same crow in the morning awakens us.
the same bowl of rice.    tell me a story.

you never cried.

on the roof a pair of crows nested when
you were born.    like before.

a door speaks before it opens.    listening.
he says he wants to go where heaven begins.

you are here to love all living things.

mother mother why do you leave me here?
these shoes are mine.    too big, but mine.

to look is to have confidence in one’s
own ability to end suffering.    all beings
desire happiness.

separation has an abundant face.
I don’t want you to go.

what can I do?    I am only a boy.

I will take those sheep.    all of them.
inside my care.

I write without writing.    I write words inside thoughts.
I write air.    I give my breath to you.

make no barrier where a face is meant to shine.

to  l o v e        it takes a long time.
how long holiness?    I don’t yet know.

all things will become nothing.    I will become nothing.
yet here I am, inside you.    we say our names, continuous.

the moon is full.
these stones we pile for you, saying where we have been,
saying our way home again.    change is this much high.

we give this sand back to you.
this home.    these fingertips.
we pour ourselves into the seas.

I am a reflection of the moon on water.

why?        to be a good man.
 
 
neil reid © 2015 november

read footnotes about this poem

t o u c h  s   t   o   n   e

poem in progress, not done yet

t o u c h  it comes in twos, doesn’t it?

dark, no, late into the body of the night.  truth resides
anywhere it wants to do, no difference a frown.

it takes the place of gold.  landscape face.
it is joys first step.  landscape feet.
no matter the dress, always welcome at the door.

so that says the who we mean when we say who.

it is everything we care to want.  it is heavens coin.
(it is in every single pocket.) (it wants to be found.)

its favorite color right now is red.  no big deal, you know,
changing desires is as fast as lightning is.  as fast as
I turn the page.

say your name into the air.
feel the reflections coming back (no surprise)
now listen as well, echoes.  inside what feels,

how they mean differently.

charming.     charming the way heaven works.

even tells tales.
there are shelves abundantly.  fall leaves do fall,
do make this floor celebrate.

amber and rust, we say, pretend not by saying yes.
but true, we thirst then joy then thirst, then yes,
your eyes were always first.  not my fault.

it is only to joy they fall.  there is no other soil.

middle of the night, you know, and I could believe
just about any small boys tail, the way they wave

the way they dance.
 
 
 
neil reid © 2015 october