"Asilomar Beach Meditations" by D. A. Wilson

Flying eyeball wings across the sky. The bleached blue sky of April Off-set against the white sand.

I walk upon this beach

In the slow lopping gate

Of many miles to go before

I rest my weary bones.

I hear the rhythm in the waves

Just listening without analyzing

Not particularly going anywhere. Understand this is a miracle.

Ain’t it good to be alive?

I rejoice in my poet’s vision

And regret not the times

When demons torment me

Or emotions unhinge me

Or falsehoods deceive me.

For these are necessary parts

Of the process

And only this ocean is eternal.

The irregular rhythm of the waves

The manifestation of cyclic patterns.

The diffuse blue light of a warm afternoon Inspires one to calm meditations

Whilst one would bark at the moon

That hangs in the dark sky

And both are reflections of one.

Duality is illusion.

All the same ocean.

In this world of trickery

We trick ourselves.

Each of us a Buddha

Eating pomegranate seeds.

It is our duty

To help each seed

Reach its full potential.

Although there is no reward in this Beyond doing it.

Enjoy the drama

Dream of life

The poetry of it

And the ocean shall answer

In its answer

That is no answer