TWO POEMS FOR MY FRIEND BOSAI
Yes, I truly a dance
Living among trees and plants
Please don’t question me about illusion
This old fellow just likes to smile to himself.
I wade across streams with bony legs,
And carry a bag about in fine spring
That’s my life,
And the world owes me nothing.
The gaudy beauty of this world has no
attraction for me—
My closest friends are mountains and rivers,
Clouds swallow up my shadow as I
When I sit on cliffs, birds soar overhead.
Wearing snowy straw sandals, I visit
Go as deep as you can into life,
And you will be able to let go of even
A POEM FOR MY FRIEND
What I see in the mirror is not who I am.
Another face walks the city streets
Copying Ryokan on street lamps and
Writing poems with children on balloons
and flower petals.
Like a fool of the temple I talk to myself
And laugh aloud at the conversation.
I wear a blue denim robe and carry only a
If you need comfort or a lost memory or a
I reach into my bag and give you what
The beauty of the world, the passing shadows
Are my constant companions.
I may die unable
To let go of the apple blossoms.
Before the cornhusks harden I want to say,
This is my life. I have no regrets.
From Between Two Souls by Mary Lou Kownacki, © 2004 Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co. Reprinted with permission.
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