Shall I think as stars do –
distant, bright, placid
set in motion, making their way
as Buddhas, mindless
travelling interstellar pathways?

What do the stars think of us
our own star even our moon?
Heavens! The singing bird in the thicket
knows me not nor sings for me.

What shall I think of this?
I shall think – the glory!

Bird, star, self.
We carry our own thoughts
through the nights
in our sleep and in our dreams.

Portland, Oregon – April 18, 2017