Poetry A Riprap On The Slick Rock

The Best Thing You Can Do For The Planet Is To Stay Home.

Lay Down These Words Before Your Mind Like Rocks. Placed Solid, By Hands In Choice Of Place, Set Before The Body Of The Mind In Space And Time: Solidity Of Bark, Leaf, Or Wall Riprap Of Things: Cobble Of Milky Way. Straying Planets, These Poems, People, Lost Ponies With Dragging Saddles -- And Rocky Sure-foot Trails. The Worlds Like An Endless Four-dimensional Game Of Go. Ants And Pebbles In The Thin Loam, Each Rock A Word A Creek-washed Stone Granite: Ingrained With Torment Of Fire And Weight Crystal And Sediment Linked Hot All Change, In Thoughts, As Well As Things.

Streams And Mountains Never Stay The Same.

Walking Is The Great Adventure, The First Meditation, A Practice Of Heartiness And Soul Primary To Humankind. Walking Is The Exact Balance Beween Spirit And Humility.

Place And The Scale Of Space Must Be Measured Against Our Bodies And Their Capabilities.