Nepal poems

Sing with the vehicle we have made out of heaven.
The water doesn’t long for something special.
It moves with wind and stone.
What particle of it have you picked up and remembered?
The root you take makes it better where honey is made.
Flowers are abundantly open, Nepal.


© 1996 Sonja J. Phinney

It took years to clothe myself in this state of human existence 
Coming down, feet on the ground.
How many bodies in one body?
And how does one see?
Three bodies follow route.
Leaves flourish, seeds fall away.
Three bodies flying
Who can see, vibrates over sea and tree.

© 1996 Sonja J. Phinney

There are some things that are not explained simply by machinery.
A wire alone doesn’t create electricity.
We must remember it is not just the body alone that creates this energy.
Don’t leave this up to the nervous system, the brain, the being alone.
It is the house, in which we enter,
So be free of the womb.

© 1996 Sonja J. Phinney

Now, all praises are seen divinely in his light.
The gardens, hu
Playing with children, hu
Gatherings of meditation, hu
You are the child in my heart.
All is moving towards, not away from.


© 1996 Sonja J. Phinney

William B. Tell

Time to go now

Can I take that apple from your hand

And play William B. Tell?

The everyday environment

In it’s hostile simplicity.

An annoyance made larger than life

Penetrates like rocks through glass.

If I click my heels three times, could I go home?

Find the escape hatch

Where I can only hear white noise, sand, and rain?


Sonja J Phinney © 17-Jul-2006

Surfacing the Pond

I skate round the cold,
About the edges.
My spyglass hunts for a selection
of bold and useful connection.

I circle the distance
between the figures
and sip on that which is hot and
ignites my senses.

A snow rabbit squats at guard,
and I am hiding away a pocket-full of gatherings.

©-Sonja J Phinney 1982