BETWEEN TWO PINES / 

FEATURED POETS

Fellows of Poetry Dōjō.

Bodhi.
Diane Langley.
V. Huntress.
Stephanie Squibb.
Fa Hsing Jeff Miles.
Zenju Earthlyn Manuel.

Students of Small Silences.

Kokuu Andy McLellan.
Owen Swain.
Shirin McArthur.

Featured guest poets.

Frank LaRue Owen.
Jason Deatherage.

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all that’s blooming
in the empty field:
cloud-shadows

— Bodhi

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full of silence —
        the old temple bell

— Fa Hsing Jeff Miles

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mourning dove song —
for a moment the world
painted pink

— V. Huntress

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rain on the sky light 
     melts into silence

— Diane Langley

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fading
with the twilight —
raven-song

— Bodhi

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waiting for a poem: 
steam rises
from my tea

— Fa Hsing Jeff Miles

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a walled garden 
within quiet 
o p  e   n    i     n      g

— Owen Swain

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at sunset 
watching the watcher —
sound of waves

— Bodhi

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sun 
teasing the skin 
bone stillness 

— Stephanie Squibb

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whiteout
a crow calls
through the mist

— Kokuu Andy McLellan

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cut calla lily
alone —
at least there is water

— Zenju Earthlyn Manuel

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shattered feathers
across the stones
   full belly

— Shirin McArthur

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missing orchid blossom —
sudden loss

— Zenju Earthlyn Manuel

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no wind no sound
holding stillness
hawk appears

— Diane Langley

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night sitting —
dawn breaks to
the first bird call

— Bodhi

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a piece of mirror reflects —
flutters against the walls

bird with glass wings
at evening zazen

— Zenju Earthlyn Manuel

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scent of magnolia
on the breeze —
petals rain down

— Bodhi

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hawk’s presence at the feeder
          keen awareness

— Diane Langley

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morning moon —
leaving

— Zenju Earthlyn Manuel

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blanketing the field
with redbud petals:
spring hail

— V. Huntress

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before saying too much —
I toss myself out of the window

— Bodhi

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catkins floating
slowly downward—
wind chimes

— V. Huntress

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This body of dust blows about in night winds.
Somehow, after dreams,
the poet’s dreaming body returns to its roost.
Eyes open, I am grateful for morning birdsong.

— Frank LaRue Owen

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meditation bell—
the sunset air fills
with bird song

— V. Huntress

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A bird nest made from old prayer flags.
Someone finally found a real use
for those stale old sutras.

— Jason Deatherage

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foggy morning —
an apologetic crow
breaks the silence

— Fa Hsing Jeff Miles

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spring —
if only 
in a jar

— V. Huntress

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warm hands
lingering pu erh 
— one bright jewel

— Stephanie Squibb

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To know the delicate expression of a dandelion is to know the nature of all things.

doing nothing 
the wind blows —
all things are known

— Stephanie Squibb

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early spring 
a windy afternoon
— the unbroken sound

— Stephanie Squibb

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flowers given
and taken away —
spring rain

— Bodhi

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swept away
by a river of thought
I walk upstream
and return to the source

— Fa Hsing

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wind grows cold — deep echoing sky

— Bodhi

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bird shadows — painting ensōs in the field

— Bodhi

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a departing butterfly —
awakened in time

— Zenju Earthlyn Manuel

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who is the architect of a tree in winter?

— Stephanie Squibb

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searching for meaning in the flames

— V. Huntress

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contemplating the essence of flowers:

listening to flowers
whisper through a dream —
we bow to each other

— Bodhi

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following breath into silence

— Diane Langley

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through clouds
mountains still appear 10,000 feet below

— Zenju Earthlyn Manuel

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diving —
the hawk meets
its shadow 

— Bodhi

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chimes — 
a lonely song
in the rain 

— Bodhi

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transparent light on the curtain — breathless

— Diane Langley

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moving in
and out of the light —
train ride

— V. Huntress

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A Saturday night in August. My grandmother lay dying on a hospital bed. I don’t want to face it. I turn away and stare out of the tenth floor windows at a formation of clouds. A storm is on its way. I realize something and turn back. Holding still, I look at every detail, like I never had before and never will again, at everything passing away. The sound of falling rain overtakes me. There is silence. Time no longer has any meaning but it suddenly means everything. Summer ends in this silence and I know that I will leave this place before winter.

mirror images:
turned away from the deathbed
gazing at storm clouds

— Bodhi

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flowering mullein
filled with seeds —
endings and beginnings

— Zenju Earthlyn Manuel

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washed-out thoughts:
the sound of cicadas
under a brilliant sun

— Bodhi

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wall-gazing as it storms:

blue darkness —
rain shadows stream
down the wall

— Bodhi

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windblown —
clouds in the teacup
drift away

— Bodhi

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mountain peaks point at clouds
stretched one thousand miles across
the sky as one body

dark side down
still the sun shines upon them

— Zenju

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Between Two Pines is a work in progress, April 2019 to 2020.

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