I finished reading about dharma master Gampopa earlier today, and that really encouraged me. I was amazed at how much it encouraged me in fact.  Reading straight up dharma usually does, as does poetry.

And playing the drum kit....

The vicious quiet,
the killing that
springs forth
into life later,
to feed and grow
and later, die
and give life
to bacteria
 fed on
by others and finally those that
nourish the seed tyhat sprouts
until it's
a green plant that
the rabbit eats
who in turn
is silently preyed upon
in the night
by the owl
who then discards
the remains that feed
the rich brown/black
soil that feeds
the thorny plant that
makes the blackberry
being picked by
the owner of
the Honda parked
on the side of the road
just east of my home.

She'll eat that berry,
discard it later,
where maybe that
remains is filtered
treated and
used as compost
that a gardner will
come pick up
and spread on his garden
which makes the
orange naturcium and cucumber he eats,
throwing the
green cucumber skin
on the rich smelling
compost heap
that feeds the bacteria
and worms and birds,
and maybe my cat.