It’s the pre-conception trauma.
Rank didn’t go far enough.
One fine moment you don’t exist and then you do.
Terrifying.
Don’t even remember, the most important event in life.
What is a life?
Whose is it?
A life is in time.
And time does not exist.
Conception … I was born.
Born into the World.
The World was not impressed.
I was not impressed by the World.
The World didn’t fit around me.
I didn’t fit into the World.
An outsider among outsiders, not even weird.
Didn’t fit into myself.
My self didn’t fit into me.
Didn’t die yet.
Wasn’t impressed by the Sinning desert God of nomads.
Puberty occurred.
Didn’t die yet.
Got laid.
Didn’t die yet.
Loved.
Didn’t die yet.
Managed not to replicate myself, to serve Nature.
Beloved people died.
Even cats died.
Didn’t die yet,
somehow.
Didn’t die for an unknown county or an unknown God.
Life is not having died yet.

May-Tzu

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Sound of morning light,
spring robin dances haiku,
missed 5 – 7 – 5 beat.

May-Tzu

Buddha mind blossoms.
Spring morning dew scatters light,
koan petals fall.

May-Tzu

Prometheus mind:
cognitive chatter eats time,
fills empty silence.

May-Tzu

No haikus written,
today only rain and mist.
Not too big a deal.

May-Tzu.

Why 5-7-5 form?
Counting mind, no sky, no Earth.
Times die, tulips dance.

May-Tzu

Timeless lightfall of deadmen’s visions;
Momentless when-path where nobody dances;
Blossom!

May-TzuĀ