“For most of us, awake isn’t even a quality we look for. We are busy with earning a living, getting good grades, anticipating spring break. Awake is another country.” Natalie Goldberg, The True Secret of Writing, pg. 113
all of us are natives
coming home once and again
wondering why we don’t
visit more often when we
love it so, scent of honeysuckle,
the wide porches, fireflies
lighting the evening air
Nobody lives here year-round,
though small children, animals,
a few old monks linger
after the season ends
There are other tourists,
but it never feels crowded
since most visits are brief,
there and back,
there and gone again
Puff Of Smoke Poems 