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.
