BLOODSTREAM OF HOPE RI-ZEN

 

Caregivers let in 

a butterfly. It landed on my 

bed, swooned by its beauty.   

I held its fragile 

spore-like rose petal wings 

in my finger/thumb.

Like a winged mandala

a diagram of my soul-

you could blow it away.  

It blew me away

I watched it fly away like 

a silhouette in the dark. 

In laptop light, It 

was a blast of colour, perfume

seeping under the skin.

full wolf moongazing 

reflecting on a drink of water

I hold you in my hand.

Ri-zen sense

between master Suzuki

zen Buddhism.

 

 

I dreamt I was, but-

truly like when in the hospital

Recovery twenty years ago.

Fluttering through my 

mind barely being in

 humankind.

 

I sat by a corridor 

window. Watching nature-

another brain injury 

patients watched TV

Did I dream of a butterfly?

Or did it dream Me?

 

Butterfly flutter by 

nature opens up the door 

drifts like time itself.

 

Written when I woke from a stroke.