Sometimes the body moves through something and takes the soul along for the ride.
Sometimes the spirit lifts up and out-of-the-body -- goes on far away travels, leaving the body behind.
This 'Love Is Stronger Than Death' Curriculum has a high tuition.
I'm not sure what will be the case this evening.
Too much of the heavy-hearted world of man is on me --
matting and staining the feathers of my Mountain-Dreaming Cloak.
Time to splash cold water on the face
and head up to where I put down a season's worth of accumulated weight.
A pinch of Isleta tobacco to the Four Winds.
To Lady Night Lamp above -- a pour of moonlit saké for safe travels...
and I'm off.
Halfway down the road -- a lightning bolt passes through.
I hear a familiar voice say:
In the Fifth World, new rituals will remind us of our shared human bond
that don't involve tragedy, sacrifice, nightmares, or deceit.
(c) 2017 / Pure Land Poetry / Frank LaRue Owen / purelandpoetry.com