zen, consciousness, life, reality, nature. . . . PLEASE ENJOY THE SOUP. . . . don't forget to wash your bowl when you're done!

The Wind In The Morning

morning trailing fuschia, purple,

vermillion clouds

still close to the night.

the small ones whir and chirp awake

tentatively, with tiny breaths

while the new light is stretched

long and fuzzy on the ground.


one bird tries a single note

clarion of pure joy. . .


the sun rolls, already humming

trying to tickle the grass awake.

far out on the interstate

the traffic picks up

carried into my kitchen on the quiet.

the wind picks up too

and sways the trees in graceful, rhythmic dance

against that painted sky,

as I savor the last few muted moments

of half light

and the wind in the morning.


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© Babaloo Bonzai and Babaloo Bonzai’s Zen Soup, 2010.

*this poem is for The Maestro


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