Monsoons rise here each afternoon
totally unlike great blue thoughts.
The red penstemon in the aspen
is not like some singular lightning strike.
The river in flood is not your life in turmoil.
And in the fir and spruce
a bear wanders through
bracken and duff, snuffling up
a mushroom and refuses
to be anything but what it is.
– Bantu
Coach’s note: DL Devotees will recall with cherished recollection
the Bantu Journals which still lie like thousands of other
Chi filled essays within the DL Archives
photo by coach outside the former WF Temple H(om)e in Northern Arizona