We Ride in the Rain

day in the rain


We Ride in the Rain.

We are happy, we seldom complain.
Something about moving, the quenching,
the drenching, the Softness of Nature’s Hand
on our parched linens.

The Gladness of Man
the moving of the Seasons,
the Ancient Rhythm of commerce,
the Hum of the Marketplace Mantra.

Aromas of Humanity sustain us
as we move sideways, vertically
frantically, erratically, measuring carefully
our pace, our dance, our stance.

We Ride in the Rain.

Love captures us once again.
From old withered hearts,
parades of Color will start;

Let the Sun take a Holiday
and who knows the Art?

Sitting in the Saddle
of the Smile of Krishna
the Benediction of Buddha
the Mercy of Christ
the Wisdom of Allah

We live for the Color of Love.

the Season of the Dove.

the Warm soft hand of God

inside our Velvet Glove.

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The Change into Self

I was speaking with someone and the topic of selfishness came up.

So I have a few things that have rambled through my head on this particular subject, and I wanted to jot them down, in case there was anyone who had an interest. Also because sometimes when you are too full, one needs to empty the glass so it can be cleaned and made useful for some other draught.

Being “selfish” is a big subject, as the self naturally tends to want to know itself. In the usual sense we have crammed the self with information and goods, till really it cannot stand alone as it naturally is, for it has so many attachments, like some massive octopus with all these suckers attached to its arms. Give me, give me, give me, has become the human beings main motto.

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