Caroline Johnson: "Hauling Water"

I’m not a swimmer, but
I’ve swum for 20 years
and in the water I find
a pool of prayer and sunlight,
a lap of Buddha without numbers,
a dedication to peace,
a moment of maturation,
meditation,
signing to the deaf with
free-style kick,
sliding through to numbers
on a journey of void.

Emptiness can fill you
like the hollow hive of a bee.
Joy is not a lazy pot of honey
but a process of
strength, courage
and focusing on
the inner path.
Leaves swirl in the ripples,
are rolled away,
now.


 
"Hauling Water" by Caroline Johnson. Text as published in Buddhist Poetry Review (June 2013). © Caroline Johnson. Presented here by poet submission.

Art credit: Untitled image by unknown photographer.

Caroline Johnson: "Blue Sky"

Close the doors.
You’ve already paid your dues.
Light the candles. Breathe
the Lilly of the Valley, the lilacs
in the vase. Reach for a pen.
Take a couple sheets of
parchment paper. Stretch.
Do Chi Gong. It seems obvious,
but sit down. Close your eyes.
Reach into the abyss. Tap into
the divinity, the Oversoul,
the Muse of the Mind. Let
your thoughts spill onto paper.

Let’s pretend you are the newest star.
Rescue your mind from a ditch.
Be aware a certain absurdity attends
outside the door. Awaken.
You are the healing waters.
Close the door, but don’t close
your mind. Come find your
own blue sky.

"Blue Sky" by Caroline Johnson. Text as published in The Prairie Light Review (2012). Presented here by poet submission.

Art credit: "Blue Sky Doors," oil painting on canvas, by Michael Chambers.