Notebooks, Novels, No plans

I might forsake the farm and leave every tree I ever planted for “notebooks, novels, no plans” like she says. But then, we still have to eat don’t we? It is a tricky thing this body requiring fuel. So poets envy plants. Green at their chlorophyll. Plants and sun-staring yogis. Bodhisattvas that sit so long they’re wrapped like mummies and turn into statues still sitting there. Taking a breath once every year so small and thin that dust doesn’t move and the ashes have nowhere to go.

– Master Seung Sahn

Painting: Orchard with Blossoming Plum Trees, 1888 – Vincent van Gogh

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1 thought on “Notebooks, Novels, No plans”

  1. There is a story that once Shel Silverstein sent a note-poem to a little boy expressing a Thank You, and the boy liked it so much he ate it. 🙂 It may be an option but I would think sun poems on peach fuzz and flea beetle poems on arugula taste much better.

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