Mar 26, 2021

the echo of the hawk cry

Hanshan on Cold Mountain. Meditation, poems, and laughter. The winter wind on the surface of the frozen snow.


I am searching my brain; is there anything that I forgot to tell you? Did I tell you about the sunlight reflected in the morning dew? Did I tell you of the echo of the hawk cry in the granite canyon? Even now the clock is ticking.


Edgar Degas


-for Walter Pavlich-

They were horned and rather near-sighted,

I have relatives like that.

Indeed, if one looks at just the skull,

There is a human quality there.

The Western Black Rhino,


Birds had warned them when danger approached,

But in the end the dangers outnumbered the birds.

What can you do?

I wonder now if got it lonely toward the end,

With the last of the great animals wandering about,

Seeking out their kinfolk,

Just wanting to see a friendly face.

And then the final one,

The last Western Black Rhino,

Perhaps knowing the poachers were out there,

A bird screeching at the sound of human footsteps,

And the last beautiful creature just waiting,

Not even caring anymore,

Preferring death to the endless loneliness.


True happiness is based on peace. 

-Thích Nhất Hạnh

Avoid the world, it's just a lot of dust and drag and means nothing in the end.

-Jack Kerouac

Renew thyself completely each day; do it again, and again, and forever again. 

-Zen Proverb

There ain't no sin and there ain't no virtue. There's just stuff people do. 

―John Steinbeck


Ren Powell

Bait the Lines

Hardcore Zen

haiku eye

The Urban Mermaid

HOOT, a monthly literary magazine on a postcard

The Slowdown

clay and branches


Summer's End

Medusa's Kitchen

The Middlewesterner

The Morning Porch/Patio

VIA NEGATIVA, purveyors of fine poetry since 2003


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