Tag Archives: zen


Sometimes it’s enough


To simply experience a moment

By itself

Without thinking about yesterday and tomorrow

It’s enough

To watch dusk slipping into night

As the heat of the sun radiates from the rocks

Where you stand barefoot


Just enjoying the impossible shades of bruised violet


Having found tranquility

In being unable to shoulder burdens

Things that are too heavy to lift

I am no Atlas or Sisyphus to take on the impossible

It is enough to stand on this rock

Without worrying about carrying it

And through the freedom of the unburdened

Discover peace in the eternal now of a sunset



David Trudel     ©  2013




Filed under Poetry


Unburdened of my cares

I unpen corralled words

To set free thoughts I once felt needed herding

And unspeak impotent intentions

That have had their hearing deafened

I dis-appoint intentional attentions

Removing all these barbed external hooks

That have settled into my skin


I strip away costumes

And un-ink skinned pages

To bleed out into emptiness

Freed from perceived obligations

As hope’s tide recedes

The sea of indifference floods in

Where I carelessly drift

In a slow voyage of undiscovery to returned forever

Until I lose everything

Except the charged consciousness of the eternal mind

Floating in blackness




David Trudel  © 2013




Filed under Poetry


Not quite empty, in one corner of the room

A low table holds glass teapots and tiny cups

Flanking the door is a small futon chair

A mirror is propped in another corner

Candles provide most of the light

Which gleams off hardwood floors

And unadorned birdshell walls

The simple emptiness creates a calm space

Where it’s easy to breathe freely

In the almost emptiness of simplicity



David Trudel    ©  2013




Filed under Poetry