Gentle Are The Leaves That Float In The Lotus Mind Poem by Thoughts of a Single Man

The mental leaf
floating calm
on the ripples of tranquility
there was a time
when the conception of thought
left a chill in me
no thrill to see
for the liquid was drawn
from the pulsing artery
cut far too deep
and was killing me
yawed thorns of antiquity
twisted on the shell of the dying rose
stabbed horns open to the meaty soul
piercing the harvesting heart
allowing the infiltration
of the bitter shivering cold
infinite cracks in the holy mold
but there were words that grew
from the whirred blur
whipped hot in the pot of the witch's brew
and cast a spell as the trickles fell
onto that silent pond
and erupted like a throbbing bomb
that once released left the falling sheets
of floating resignation
shifting in it's diction
on the plains of the mental mission
like an incision
brought me to a pinnacle
where the was only peace
lost in the functioning floating sleep
of the lotus leaf
the Buddhist prayer
held the howling wolf browsing there
I creep like the feathered monk
on the mythical mountains of Shoalin
where flows the verbal fountain
I am no longer there in the physical
I am expanding the canter of my diameter
open palm where once the fist was full
I am mystical
one with nature's scroll
winking ink in the thinking bowl
like the writing on the forest wall
the face in the clouds
the image in the mist
merging with the trees
where sees the loving bliss
I am saturated with the lather
of my own contemplation
spinning deep within the coils
of the ever leaking pen
I could no longer hope to contain
to stop the ensuing words
than I could redirect the avalanche
for I am too deep in the still of the whole
like the dove of the extended branch
my hope joy and pain
stain the empty plains
like drops of crystal rain
black dots dropp hot
and swirl like my tears
drowning my fears
sifting in the mental batter
held tight like the grayest of all matter
soft and smooth
with no groves to shatter
just the magician and his waving wand
but alas there is no trickery
though some are amazed
when the words appear upon the page
owned so clear for in this mind
the poet simply chooses
from the sledding phrases
that hover before my eyes
and I pluck them
like stars from the midnight sky
and leave then dancing
before the reader's gaze
humble in the coming thunder
waiting for the summer shower
and thus I am saved
suspended like the picture
hung on the surface of time
free falling
conceiving and weaving
the spiders silken strands
of the ether in the ties that bind
my threads that stitch the infinite patterns
that weave the way of the leaves
that float in the lotus mind

Thoughts of a Single Man 2012 tm