The Tiger's Leap

Observing the wreckage of the Second World War from his high tower on the Californian coast, Robinson Jeffers wrote in 1938, “Look, you grey stones: Civilization is sick: stand awhile and be quiet and drink the sea-wind, you will survive civilization.” Jeffers adamantly opposed American involvement in the Second World War and the poems he … More “You Will See Monsters”

—For Bec “If wanderers were not themselves the cause, then like the scent and color of the lotus in the sky, there would be no perception of the universe.”—Nagarjuna   The young beast said to the old: How can I live in this world? This lacerated, ruptured world.   Said the old beast to the … More Beasts Must Stick Together

“Heaven and earth aren’t humane.”—Daodejing “Faeries dance in the meadow and the leaf-crowned Nacken plays his fiddle in the silvery brook.”—Stagnelius Let us reject the classic anarchist motto “no gods, no masters,” and proudly declare that the Earth and it’s Spirits are our Gods and Masters. By what right does humanity claim its independence from the forces? … More In the Milky, Dim Strangeness Lies the Way

“The wild God of the world is sometimes merciful to those that ask mercy, not often to the arrogant.” In his twilight days, man dreams of his death. A lonely figure upon the cliff top gazing out over a black stormy sea under an iron sky. Beneath the stone, the volcanic consciousness pulses. The eyes beyond … More What Does the World Dream?

In dappled groves of ancient, hulking oaks standing god-like among endless oceans of emerald moss, a voice rises up from the black, fragrant earth strewn with forgotten ruins and grim stone shapes hidden beneath mountains of ivy. Thin and airy at first. A mere dream of lurking things at the edge of thought. Suffocating darkness … More Upon the Plains of Adoration

“Without leaving my house, I know the whole universe.”—Daodejing Ice beneath the rushing river like a cloud of smoke held in time. The one who understands the way best of all has never even heard it spoken nor the idea of it ever entered their mind. They flow through the world and the myriad things without thought … More To Roam in the Fields of Infinity

  Vitoð ér enn, eða hvat? (Would you yet know more?)—Voluspo My son looks up at the towering pylons above us. “What is that, daddy?” A cold wind blows across the barren wastes of the future and stings my cheeks and eyes. “The ruins of a world that doesn’t know it’s already dead.” We walk … More A Winter Walk: Fimbulwinter