Buddha Poem

How far have we gone today past the little moon in the giant sky here in the deep of the dark, past the fluttering of the fan palms going out and coming back home, past the morasses and the desert grasses, past loss until it is gone off, the smallest birds over our heads, a compass inside them, flying beyond the thin air to life in the cool of the night, past a world of hurt in the pandemic, and the black crows are in the big old trees out back, and so far it feels like a new start all over again and again, no matter how long it takes, as late as this, taking to the world, planting seeds, doing no harm

Charlene Langfur