nature7blog

no matter how i try, 
i can never do justice to a tree,
at least, 
not how mama could see.

the way the sun reflects the sheen
of their assorted hair styles,
such calm creatures i’ve ever seen. 

harmonious and ease,
a symphonic flow
of morning breeze.

they never complain, 
surrender tears
to ax, borers or pain. 

the artistic, often animated patterns of light
and shadow at play as scintillant streams 
twist and shimmy through the canopy, 
coloring the canvas floor.

never do they cease to bring forth 
their prostrated crops 
of geometrical shape each season, 
habitually chased by grand conspiracy 
of sublime blush at summer’s end, 
until their ever graceful death.

my perception is unreliable, 
less i behold myself. 

how splendid you are, 
even in your death
i am covered and warm.

you extend my sight and ear,
with vision to hear.

by K. Osei

i know where God lives. 
in the room at the top of the stairs, 
open the door, you’ll see him there.

in the morning he do yoga — writing and shit,
sometimes he travel right where he sit.
i still see him, though he’s not there,
just a hologram fully aware.

a window in the room
open to reality.
when i look, i’m not sure
if i see him, or i see me.

yesterday he smoked a j
and did taiji the short form way.
through a crack in the door
i watched him fling,
twist and step with Cheng Man-ch’ing.

i know where God lives.
he’s in the room at the top of the stairs,
just open the door, you’ll see him there.

he loves to laugh without a grin,
delights his own presence,
redeems his own sin.

on a tree i hung,
he watched me die,
then shouted hallelujah
as i cried.

he wiped my tears 
and tried my eyes,
then gently commanded me — rise!

by K. Osei

we are who we are said i; 
is the saddest hymn sang to me. 

relinquish hope and give up try,
for this is your destiny!

never nay ever was the voice
 in response to thee.

i am who i choose, 
all else is pretend – you see? 

imagination is the real, 
of all that can truly be.

by K. Osei

mama’s dirt floors
were always clean
mama was like dust,
she settled on everything,

at dawn’s first light   
mama could be seen.  

light and easy 
she floated on air, 
like tiny specs
mama was everywhere. 
things we couldn’t see,
like behind the old clock,
mama was there.

even when something
i thought i knew –
couldn’t hide,
mama was there too.

mama never worked with no haste,  
like bread, and trees, 
mama produced no waste.

by K. Osei

i bless thee Oh Son –
moon and stars.
great Tao of truth,
righteous is thy rain
and holy are the mighty oak.
magnificent are the lampyridae,
majestic are the hills and mountains,
wonderful is the sound of my breath,
how sacred is the night.

it is privilege to boast thee!
do not leave me, 
your presence
exceeds all pleasure.

help me to praise you,
and show me the way.
that i may record thee,
make thyself known.

keep me from delusion
and destroy my vanity 
for all to see.

you increase my lungs,
you give air to my head.
my blood flows without hurdle

you lay me down, that i might sleep
and no thought enters my mind.

all words are babel 
in your presence,
i will speak only the holy
language of silence —
forbid my tongue.

strengthen my bones,
ease my hips,
release my neck  
and flex my back.

awake!
ascend thy helix chine,
Kundalini rise!
kindle O’ wick of mind.

vanquish self from i.

steal my mind,
steel my mind,
still my mind.

by K.Osei