A closer look at a Buddhist Temple.

In this poem I describe the sensation of seemingly falling through the crushed stone, raked in waves, into a spirit-realm.

Cyce of life and death.

The Philosophers Stone.

Zen writings can help you realize that one is truly sleeping, even in broad daylight.

This is my account of what happened in life when I extended into spiritual realm.

This poem is an exploration of questions about the possibility of reincarnation and its purpose. You might be surprised by God’s responses.

I wrote this in 15 mins as an exercise. The prompt was something smooth and soft to the touch.

I don’t like defining poetry because it packages and reduces its power. So take what personal significance you will from this poem. At its most basic level, it’s about finding your own truth, which lies beyond religious dogma, one’s ideas about spirituality, and everything outside of oneself.

Religion – now a myth or reality?