Machete (day 2611)

I go to bed late and forget to leave the evening candle burning
It sits beside my machete that waits for another attack
That ripped my great grandmother from her life
These Wild Men came, ignoring her fire
Her embers burned yet they stole with little regard
Fair play existed when hands were harder
When banks weren’t lawmakers
Lawless was irrelevant to those who upheld order
Gunslingers or good singers or Moonshiners all made their way
Through the land of hard work, good cooking, and square dances
And my machete sits sharp

Forgotten (day 2335)

I have not remembered the promise we made each other
No, I have forgot it just like the sunset we watched
And the kiss – we never shared
I did not walk those streets with you
In a foreign villa of unending desires
It was not of my hand that wrote thee thy letter
No, that would have broken my heart
To watch you walk off into the day
Of another dream I did not have.
I have not remembered the promise we made each other
And I have not watched the same movie on repeat
I do not remember curling up with you
Under my grandmother’s knit afghan,
Every time I take to my bike
I do not think of the basket upon yours
Instead I ring my bell so loud
My knees they knock me free.

Dharma (day 2299)

We live as a cog
We take notice
When people are missing
Importance is everyone
Our heads?
We may doubt
But dharma is shown
Tarot, divination, vision
Inside
Grandmother is inside
Meditation collides
So we know
We are one
We know you
Though through fighting
We’re blinded
Yet cannot escape
Our wheel
Our cog turn around.

Dharma by Ned Tobin

Ashram Day 20 (day 1423)

She curled her tail
About my chest
And laughed a learned snarl.
As grandmother saw,
She knew it all;
I was left to dig the rest.
But even with such torrents stumbled
I walked away on solid ground;
Lost and found,
Cured and spoiled.
Left and forgotten.
Whispered to in silent nods
I needed no affirmation,
No restless waiting line
For I was united,
I was mind and body
And had drank the medicine
Though needing nothing in return.

Lemonade (day 1307)

Being able to take over the heart of an ancient soul was creating pressure within the young boys heart.
He saw wisdom, he saw truth, but he also saw the windows of time shift from opportunity to rest, from an ounce of hope to pains that lifted one awake shortly after midnight.

A silent lake was a window.
Like glass, a heart is precious; always suspended at the edges of tomorrow picturing faint smiles and implied intentions.

Here the young boy clutched tightly to his grandmothers pointer finger, understanding conscious kindness in her forever eyes that always found his quietly.
They were together often for this reason, but also her lemonade tasted like sweet nectar.
He would remember this as time would slowly reduce rations of nectar but still filled full with every bit of love.

Only mid-summer’s sun and a lazy bumblebee were present as Grandma smiled and laid her head against the sun chair, closing her eyes.
The young boy drew a shape of a heart on the dusty table top before he walked down the steps and out into the yard where he found his foot soldier, Rusty, the valiant family golden retriever that kept watch over the young boy while Grandma rested her smiling heart – shaded, but in the sun.

Roses are Beautiful (day 1159)

My grandmother tells me that roses are beautiful,
That common sense is all around us.
She tells me that stars float on at night and
Clouds make perfect animals
Which change upon a whim.
She has upon her windowsill
An old foot I’ve always admired.
It holds in it (like a steady hand)
Utensils ready for marking.
To its right: new words for every day.
Never a day goes by without
Her graceful way of flipping.
With all her heart the words so dear,
Hold powers of deep providence.
And from that table, when sitting to dine
Upon a chair plumped by two softening cushions,
One can see through a window of far off China mountain.
More importantly, however, a quite a bit closer
In fact – just below her window,
Is a bush grown wild from years
Unceasingly blooming so.
It’s a rose, and she knows
How beautiful it is.