Dust. Coffee. Rice.

"I have walked through many lives some of them my own, and I am not who I was."- Stanley Kunitz

Dust coffee rice
Home zone bamboo ice

Voice language culture
Shadows

Old man cleans ears
A professional stranger shows up
Among whisper smiles

Old man balancing on bamboo staff
Shuffles

Voices decipher cognition

Plain clothes officers clean spectacular spectacles
With what they don't know
White paper

A girl loving geography
Lights four incense sticks with gratitude.

Dance now think later.

Hoi An, Vietnam

Screaming Lao Man

The screaming Lao man
Thin, late 20's, shorts, flip flops, black hair
Walks away from
Lao Provincial Hospital

Leaving a ward

Leaving someone he loves

Screams [speed of sound]

Broken by silence
Between knowledge and ignorance
 
He screams, closer
Screams...

He stops near hospital entrance

Frozen in midday sun
 
Burning pavement

Burning his heart
Throws out his arms
Drops to his knees

Screaming

Folds his head into his arms
Faces ground sobbing

Silent solitude grief
Loss heartbreak

A blind Khmer musician and his daughter.

World Poetry Day

Language river

Brown life highway

Mountain silent

Clouds fly around

Here we go

Floating World

Calligraphy - breath, pressure, line
Shadow of white butterfly
Voices ebb and flow

Fingernails trimmed
Share river

Floating world
Mercenary butterfly shadows
River language

Color zen
Create like a child
Less is more

Dream it
Feel it
Dance it
Live it

Loom Of Time

You returned with secret joy
Yes she says my dream of you is unfolding

She caresses silk threads on her loom of time
Your sensitivity and serenity calms me he says

Before dawn
The Mekong is water
Fog obscures distance
She stands at a window looking for him

On the river
His net flies over still deep water
Threads and knots of jungle vine grace surface
Sink into silence

Hearing the Mekong sing
She returns to the source
Dreaming voiced silent whispers
Silence becomes her desire
Gratitude her awareness
Calms her tortured heart

A leaf leaves the tree of life
Flutters like a heart beat

Transparent water bowls sing
A purple lotus rows from mud

At her loom
Her pattern begins with purple silk
Her base
She threads thin lines of balance

She spins out golden threads for new diamonds
Weaving her meditation

Her voice
Hands fingers heart-mind