Washed Away in Dharma by Joshua Hudson
A running man struggling through the thickets,
never learns what he can about the butterflies and crickets
A man who is still–
against the quiet can feel the will of the world in riot
The feel of the earth snuggling up against the flesh
the silent mirth a world alive and fresh
How hard we cling to what is “mine”
suffering– we sing of Auld Land Syne
But if we just breathe
and let go, we can thaw the freeze and ride the flow
Oh what a ride we employ!
The currents we explore no longer grasping our joy waterfalls from us pour
One last discord I pluck in a world out of tune
my mind stuck in the suck
of a world solely lit by the moon.
