The Unlikely Buddha

  Life throws us curveballs. Sometimes, they're gentle lobs, but other times, they're fastballs that knock us flat. When faced with tragedy, it's natural to search for meaning, for some cosmic explanation that makes sense of the pain. Phrases like "everything happens for a reason" can feel like life rafts in a storm, offering a fragile hope amidst the chaos. However, while these phrases may bring temporary comfort, the reality is that life is often messy and unpredictable. There may not be a grand plan or a preordained script, just a tapestry woven with joy, sorrow, and everything in between. Accepting this doesn't diminish the hurt, but it allows us to move beyond the question "why?" and start exploring "how." How can we navigate these storms with a sense of agency? The answer lies within ourselves. By cultivating awareness of our thoughts and emotions, we gain a foothold in the midst of the churning waters. This doesn't mean ignori...

  The night descends, a sigh of gray,  A silver moon, it holds its sway. A frosted disc, a watchful eye, As wispy clouds in silence fly. They drift across the velvet black,  Like brushstrokes white, upon a track  Of endless dark, a starry sea, A canvas vast, for all to see. The air is crisp, a breath of pine,  A symphony of scents entwined  With dampened earth, a gentle breeze,  Rustling leaves through ancient trees. The world shrinks down, beneath the dome,  Of endless space, my worries numb.  A quiet peace, a gentle hush,  As moonlit shadows softly brush. A connection felt, to something grand,  A universe, held in my hand. The stars whisper secrets, old and new,  In this moment, bathed in moonlit dew. I breathe it in, the silent night,  A simple beauty, pure and bright.  A sense of wonder fills my soul,  As stars and moon their stories roll. Unlikely Buddha, 2024

 Let me take you on a magic carpet ride No silken carpet, stitched by hands unknown, But woven moonlight on a phoenix's down. With whispers of magic, we'll ascend the sky, Where stars like diamonds dance and planets sigh. Through emerald valleys, where dragons sleep, And crystal rivers secrets keep. On winds of laughter, past castles untold, With stories blooming, braver than gold. We'll chase shooting stars across the night, Their fiery whispers our guiding light. Past hidden waterfalls, where sirens sing, And wishes take flight on gossamer wing. No jeweled palace, but a moonlit bower, Where fireflies light each fragrant flower. With hearts entwined, beneath the Milky Way, We'll write our own love story, come what may. This magic we create, unseen, unheard, A tapestry woven with every shared word. So let us dance on stardust, wild and free, For the truest magic lies in you and me. With brushes dipped in dreams, we'll paint the sky, Our souls entwined, as colors dan...

  The words fall like shattered glass, each syllable a fragment of your heart laid bare. Dreams, whispered into the void, met with polite smiles that hold no echoes of your own yearning. Fears, confessed in the quiet moments, dissolve into the air, leaving only the hollowness of silence. You, a tapestry woven with threads of vulnerability, hang opposite a blank canvas, reflecting back only your own loneliness. The serpent of isolation coils tighter, its scales cold against your skin. You poured your essence into a well that held only dust, each shared detail, each unreturned confidence chipping away at the foundation of your hope. The realization cuts like a shard of ice, a truth as undeniable as the emptiness you feel. This was a solo performance, a song sung into the wind, its melody lost in the vast indifference. No embers of self-discovery flicker in the darkness. The tapestry remains unfinished, its threads trailing off into the abyss. The echoes of loneliness morph into a c...

The sunbeam shifted, painting a different corner of the worn rug, but Grumpus Maximus remained a motionless shadow, his familiar grumbles silent. My calloused hand brushed his fur, once thick and luxurious, now thin and brittle with age. No response, no indignant flick of the tail, no disgruntled purr. Just the stillness of a life snuffed out, leaving behind a void as vast as the galaxy above. Grumpus Maximus. The name itself, a testament to his personality. Not a cuddly lap cat, but a grumpy emperor, ruling his sunbeam dominion with disdainful stares and the occasional swat. A constant, a furry companion who filled the quiet of my days with his unique brand of grumpy presence. He wasn't much for words, this feline curmudgeon. But his silence spoke volumes. A flick of the tail meant annoyance, a slow blink, grudging affection. He'd bat at my slippers, a silent protest against my shuffling gait, and I'd pretend to be startled, just to see his indignant puff of fur. He was a ...

Once I believed in Cassandra A psychic whose words were profound She built my hopes up with prospects of love But love did not come around Then I put faith in Aurora Her reputation was sound Now I'm here wondering where my money went The crystal ball let me down In my daydreams I fall in love My search is through They're just daydreams Prophets say will soon come true Where is love Where is the mystery girl I've always dreamed of Where is love Someone somewhere has an answer Tell me where is love Can't help but think of Aladdin A myth only children believe Maybe his lamp has the power enough To send a lover to me In my daydreams I fall in love My search is through They're just daydreams Prophets say will soon come true Where is love Where is the mystery girl I've always dreamed of Where is love Someone somewhere has an answer Tell me where is love? 

 The moon, a pearl upon the velvet night,  Waxing gibbous, casts a silver light.  Night descends, a hush falls on the land,  Secrets whisper, mysteries at hand. Will the fairies dance, with wings of gossamer fine, Underneath the moon, a shimmering line?  In meadows bathed in lunar glow,  They pirouette and dip, a silent show. Their laughter tinkles, like wind chimes in the breeze,  As they chase fireflies through the rustling trees.  Mushrooms glow, their lanterns in the dark,  Guiding tiny steps, leaving not a mark. On lily pads they float, like boats of jade,  Singing songs of starlight, serenades  To slumbering flowers, dreaming dreams unseen, In this realm of moonlight, where fairies convene. But watch with caution, for they flit and they hide,  These creatures of magic, in moonbeams they confide.  A glimpse of their beauty, a whisper of their song,  Is all a mortal glimpses, ere they vanish long. So close your ey...