Mesa Falls

Mesa Falls
Photo by Gamaliel Masters

Branches & Waterfalls

Life gives you breathers,
in midflight over the waterfall
you find a branch to cling to,
you sit there,
neither up nor down,
still in the line of fire,
in danger of being swept
to the rocks below,
but for the moment,
you're safe,

so you catch your breath,
let the hearbeat relax,
let yourself feel
for a few blessed days
that nothing has happened,
you start to feel good again,
smiles flow like hesitant waves
curling around a rock,

the branch begins
to feel like home,
a little small maybe,
but you study
the intricacies of tree bark,
the colors that fade
in and out of each other,
the knots where
twigs were born,
shuffle your weight around,
look at rainbows formed
by waterfall mists,
become entranced
by the view,

Waterfall Rainbow, Yellowstone

Waterfall Rainbow, Yellowstone
Photo by Gamaliel Masters

aren't we all on our own tree branches, seduced by feelings of safety, we shout reassurances over rushing waters, fling rope bridges across chasms, visit each other, step gingerly on bridges that sway, and paste our nows to an imagined tomorrow, we forget that we're branch bound, that soil gives way, and banches break, that we are on loan to life, so let's hold each other, taste our warm breaths, inhale deeply and sing wild love songs in midnight darkness under star shine till the birds envy us in their dreams.
Zen Oleary July 23, 2003

More of Zen Oleary's poems (and poems by others) can be accessed at:
The Buddha Way - Buddhist Arts

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