A three-year-old girl
held a life-size Mr. ZIP’s
cardboard hand in her own
while waiting for Daddy
or an interior lobby
stoplight to change.
Can we go now?
These days, she
must be
my wife’s age.
To continue, click here.
Copyright 2015
You never know what we'll churn up in cleaning a stall
A three-year-old girl
held a life-size Mr. ZIP’s
cardboard hand in her own
while waiting for Daddy
or an interior lobby
stoplight to change.
Can we go now?
These days, she
must be
my wife’s age.
To continue, click here.
Copyright 2015
When the name Jnana was bestowed on me back in 1972, it was soon expanded to Jnana-Devanandashram – or Jnana-Dev, in a diminutive.
Apart from recognizing my unique character and giving it focus, the name also linked me to a major saint and at least one mythical spirit in India’s past.
Prominent among them was Jnanadev, born in 1275 and described – I love this – as a mystic poet and slave of love. His Jnaneshwari is considered the second most-important commentary on the Bhagavad Gita. Alas, he died at age 21.
Now I see there’s another of our own time who’s a musician who performs with Tibetan monks.
That’s before we get to Facebook, with its host of entries, or the Jnana Yoga displays. As for Jnana alone in a Google search? There are millions, thanks to those software engineers from India.
Still, let me guess, I’m the only one you know. Am I wrong?
best known for our anti-war witness
we could do much more
individually and together
to summon others
to transcendental worship
* * *
if we hesitate to strip naked or don sackcloth
to march brazenly into parking lots
and through malls
or the courthouse
or legislature
to proclaim Truth
to those who reach for a Budweiser
the first thing
1st-Day morning
or so passionately decry anything
smacking of religion or church
how else do we extend the welcome?
maybe we’re just getting old
or sedate
or muffling passion
this is more important
than placing a notice
in the paper or a line in the phone book
if anyone remembers
* * *
there’s no invitation
without an address
or sign
or billowing aromatic
celebration
made visible
Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set, click here.
Being mindful of what’s right in front of us can always be a challenge. Here are 10 new items from my end.
~*~
~*~

he’s not a bird
eating fish
or worms
see how frantically he spades
without weeding
how voraciously he climbs out
on the seeded maple twigs
* * *
incisor
domestica
rodentia
in residence
* * *
a squirrel with a martini
too much too often
fog in treetops before the wind blows
how do sparrows remember
once nested in this eave before rats or squirrels
found them out?
if it were only hickory nuts for high-fat content he’d
look shiny with such thought snickering abounds how is it
they acquire a taste for the Big Bad Wolf who bought the house?
* * *
nobody charged extra
for the vermin
* * *
in the walls they’re all wild creatures
of course, considering the jerry-rigged affairs
the preceding landholders had undertaken within this plot
(oh, the stories the neighbors were relating, all hinting
at more scandalous expansions now lost to posterity,
nobody could remember much in the way of detail,
except for the wild noises and all the coming and going)
the remaining evidence held no apologies
so what if we live
in cages of our own making? we still escape
into further flames or muck or fencing, all depending
on the company we keep
everyone’s a social creature,
the chattering
he’d considered birds was more or less
incensed squirrels, tearing about his estate
with that obscene flick of the tail
Poem copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
To read the full set of squirrelly poems, click here.
Another aspect of myself that’s just coming to light is a kind of passiveness that the Asian practice has encouraged – indeed, Yoga and Zen direct the practitioner to become invisible or transparent, egoless, etc. Put that together with my experience in employment, relationships, and so on, and it can become – as it has in my life – a reactive, rather than active, series of events: me as a passive victim rather than standing up on my own. Or when I’d stand up for something, it was to get cut down – again, becoming the victim. At least, that’s a quick overview of the openings at the moment. It’s not quite that severe: I’ve been a lot of places, done a lot of things. But there has been a kind of short-circuit that’s depleted too much energy and maybe even been self-destructive. A passive outlook leading to a victim mentality. Fun stuff. At least – and at last – I’m coming face to face with it. In seeing this, though, some interesting things are beginning to happen.
~*~
For more Seasons of the Spirit, click here.
Just a taste of what’s popping up. In case you were looking for a prompt.
~*~
~*~

As Doc would have said:
If he knew even one-tenth
of what he thinks he knows
he’d be ten times smarter
than he is.
(Yes, working with Doc was a hoot.)
As Doc would have said:
The funniest words out of that mouth: “I think.”
Meaning a less-than-conscientious way of doing the task at hand while adding to the burden of another.
We know.
oh, stranger
you seem to expect a believer will forgive anybody
you seem to think a devotee must forgive everybody
you seem to presume a saint can forgive all
but it’s nothing you attempt in return
* * *
oh, stranger, there are conditions
according to Jesus
if you ask
we can begin
and if you express regret
and if you turn course
and do good actions
we can truly begin
if you want any forgiveness between us
we can begin gently working
according to Jesus
* * *
but if you think forgiveness is a license
to come back
the way you were, to continue harming
and hurting others
you’re mistaken
oh, sinner
forgiveness begins by admitting the mirror
Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set, click here.