Humble Practice

Humble practice trumps all,
The razor snicks up and down at dawn,
A hundred kicks fly at dusk.
They chase perfection
Not to catch it, but to become it,
If only for an instant.
In every simple moment we find spirit,
When movement becomes more than movement,
And words become more than words,
The simplest mystery is the deepest –
Action is repeated,
Until the doer becomes inseparable
From what is done.



Only through hardship can we find lasting satisfaction,
Freedom can only be understood through the bars of a cage,
Gratitude only reveals itself after sacrifice,
And only through duty to something greater than ourselves,
Do we find we are not alone.


Bubbles from the depth rise with strange, salty feelings,
Foaming words draw attention,
Stones thrown down to mark the spot
Sink without a trace,
Scholars study a frozen core from the past,
But mysteries are born again in the spring,
Bringing meaning, energy, and life;
The spirit cannot be exorcized –
In its absence we are dried mummies,
Filled with it we are mad;
What is left walks on the edge of a knife,
The world divided into subject and object,
All that is not required is cut away,
With each bloody loss the earth moves,
Shaking bubbles from the depths.

A Thanks to Ray Bradbury

Though our fires burn apart,
A spark from yours lit mine
To fill the dark heavens,
With flames of joy and tiny angels,
To drift on night winds and perhaps,
Find timber dry enough to light,
Some other poor wretch’s life

And so I give you thanks dear Ray,
And offer your name upon these same winds
Hoping against hope it will find its way home.

I wrote this in January, 2010, but it seems most fitting to publish it now.
My thoughts go to the family of this great man, who passed away last night.
I wouldn’t be me without you Ray, I’ll never forget the nights I spent reading your words, looking up at the stars, and dreaming…Thank you.

Comfort zone

Every time we leave our comfort zone we must defeat our demons,
They are the only enemies we will find there.

Outrage or Approval

It is not Law that lays down what is right,
But Culture –
That slow shifting behemoth,
That lives in the head and heart,
Is passed from parent to child,
And through outrage or approval,
Always gets its way.

(C) Copyright Mark B Williams 2014 Registered & Protected