June 11, 2024 – A

Few things are quieter 
than mushrooms.

They come and go
while making nothing of it.

If I could live as quietly
as a mushroom,
I would declare myself
to have achieved stardom.

Imagine that without fanfare!

That would be something
to shout about,
noiselessly.

Silence is the essence of quietude. 
Which is the foundation 
of all that was
before anything was.

The next thing was the AUMmmmm...
announcing existence/being/stuff,
like a whisper as the background
music of the spheres.

Getting back to which is like unto
having it made,
which is what the mushrooms have,
and all things like them.

Spiderwebs, for instance.
And dew drops.
Eagle tears.
Whale thoughts...
The list is long
of things that make no noise.

Those are the things
I aspire to be like.
Living noiselessly,
making no waves.

The Buddha under the Bodhi tree.

He could have been a mushroom,
turning the light around.

Which is something we do 
much too little of.
Turning the light around,
noiselessly.

Like the Buddha
being a mushroom.