Sudden Waves of Shore-side Satori

The brush of wind flowing through the leaves of backyard trees
mimicking sounds of smooth crashing waves.

Tidal rush,
momentary shift in consciousness,
finding myself shore-side,
even smelling the crisp, sandy littoral air,
brought in with the squaw of the seagulls

Subtle moment of crystal-water-wind borne clarity -
Under the full noon sun,
hearing only the electric buzz
of the cicadas remote hum,
no machinery whatsoever
heard going off/on.
What peace!
What bliss!

The various undulation of any certain great lake,
always manages to slake the hoarse voice caught the throat of my athirst soul,

offering a dark empyrean chalice: a deep lustral glass
of pure pine-green wine,
served stirred with a crash of fresh foam on the rocks.

I quaff and quickly am drunk.

Cleansed of my desires,
watching ships of
fame, power, influence,
image prestige and wealth, fade in the horizon.

I walk, I sit,
I run without chase,
I do what I please,
my time no longer occupied toiling
with samsara's one-sided games.

My voice refreshed and anew,
my soul trills in high operatic octaves,
eclipsing the wings of summer sojourning seabirds

No matter how far inland in
the state of Michigan,
If You listen close, if the moment's just right,
you'll hear the call of the lakes.

Michigan belongs to the lakes; the people, the wildlife, the vegetation

The essence of the waves transcends the water to
blanket and soothe the entire state
like a warm, ethereal mother.

poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!