Bei Kuan-tu

"The Bud" by Bei Kuan-tu

As Winter gives it's final fro,
As luminous frost disappears into daylight’s song
A single bud beckons to discover its life amongst the coming Spring.
Tightly and securely bound - waiting, hoping for it's awakened state.
It finally yields to a perfect hue of tender green

How majestic you are, even in your child-like state.
With layers opening at a snail’s persevering pace.
Beauty unveiled and a majesty not of this world.
Ever expanding - pursuing the call of intensified light.
Surrounding you is your lineage,
turning heat into soothing shade
for all who partake in this perfect splendor.
You are unique, yet connected to the whole.

As the months move subtly by
change is a gathering force. 
Sleepiness comes over you,
like a suckling newborn.
From jaded green, to a brilliant yellow, to blazed and fiery orange,
your brilliance awes the sublime—perfect, and temporal.
Exiting your home whirling winds carry you
beyond effort or will
like a child swaying on a swing
Without a tear you land without expression or sound.
And find your place amongst the many
in a clear and cleansing stream.

Onward you go
past the rounded boulders and churning tide.
Away, away, on a journey of ages past
only to repeat nature's eternal call
Finally, purposely,  disappearing into perfection
And in your place, amongst the old oak,
another takes your honored position
and ponders it's future journey home.

© 2015 Bei Kuan-tu All Rights Reserved

"Blindness" by Bei Kuan-tu

As a war-weary soul
pursues some form of finality,
the Light,
that lit the hearts of humans 
fell prey to sadistic shadows.

"Hitcher" — Bei Kuan-tu


As I stand alone on an open highway, 
a cool breeze wisps against a single descending tear,
as an accordion exhaling its final sounds. 
Emptiness weakens and overwhelms me,
like molten lava being drawn gravitationally
to its climactic end.

Gazing out towards a spectral horizon, 
imagination extracts me of all sensibility and perspective, 
What is whispered within is the mystery of a masters brush and chisel. 
Clouds rest their weary bottoms on rocky plateaus 
appearing like chairs crafted from impenetrable stone. 
Particles swirl in multiple directions  
creating dancing dust-devils in movie-like animation. 
I'm awed by the wily wink of these wonders
For this day, mystery besets me 
and silence engulfs my tender heart.
I feel so small;  
as if a minute spec of matter 
unknowingly placed somewhere in the cosmos.
And alone... so very alone.

I am a captive to the lines of this interstate.
And strangely, I sense an illustrative and profound Presence: 
incomprehensible, unnerving and unknowable.
I’m drawn to it's shapeless shadow;
desiring to dance to it's darkened delight.
And I get so very close. 

Though maimed by years of crooked blindness
I unquestionably glimpse and sense it’s formless Presence ; 
though chilled by what feels like eons of self-doubt, 
I’m aware of its alluring eyes observing me.

One tear becomes many, 
and like the ever expanding nature of constellations in the cosmos,
they flow.
I sense my end and beginning fuzing mystically into one.
As I yield to this all-encompassing specter,
like dew vaporizing into sightless sound,
my existence reaches its final stay.
For my undoing is upon me
and "I," without thought, am no more.

What remains of me is the road itself, 
simple, solitary and paradoxical.

© 2012 Bei Kuan-tu All Rights Reserved

“An Artist’s Eye” by Bei Kuan-tu

—-Painting by Tracey Fletcher King

This poem is dedicated to my wise, sweet friend M. A person of incalculable passion for life and the path she now excitingly follows.

You were born of the Holy
gifted in ways that few know
and fewer could ever know.
How long has your heart celebrated your poetic flair?
and artistic touch?
that searches the stillness of the night
for its next expression?
Most likely, long before you were born

Cloaked in paradox and allegory
without name or form,
from your birth you’ve been drawn to this mystery
where the voice of the ages whispers come hither,
whereby the soul speaks the unspeakable,
in a patois of an artist’s eye

A turbulent past sparks your present flare.
Primer before pigment, ya know.
A naked, transparent heart embodies you
to paint and pen your passions,
hopes and celestial dreams

For so long you resisted,
“practicality over passion”,
“first things first”
but the universe said no.
It’s “still small voice”
igniting your soul to rise
sometimes fearless.
Transcribing between empty frames,
brushstrokes of beauty, sorrow, agony and bliss
speaking your sweet language of light,
All as a winsome woman — now set free!

You‘ve worn these colors from your earliest days,
unfathomable sensitivity
drawing nigh
deeper into the human condition;
questioning the very fiber of reality;
To find where you belong;
To know who you belong with;
To seek guidance from within;
And to gaze up at the amazing sparkles
that hang from the night sky.
expressions of humanity’s hymn,
all in an artist’s eye!

Your calling is that of a living flame,
with heat and Light!
to paint and pen what arises
deep calling to deep.
You are love’s mystery
incalculably sassy
always anointed
And with the most exquisite artist’s eye.

© 2017 Bei Kuan-tu All Rights Reserved

"Forgotten Wing" by Bei Kuan-tu


A man’s uncompromising soul,
rests in clarity and valor.
Peter's denial was three,
mine many more.
Love conquers
as all souls do know

Yin, a man’s forgotten wing
a gate to grandeur's heart,
whose nature moves skyward,
to embrace its celestial crown,
reducing and expanding —
into the wisdom of Tao,

which is love left free
to do and be.

"Love Flies" — Bei Kuan-tu

Evening Tide
"Evening Tide" by Julie Sauer

Emptiness has a way of slowing the mind to a standstill.
Vastness does quite the same.
The Tao is emptiness and vastness
In such a place Love flies like a lone bird.

© 2012 Bei Kuan-tu All Rights Reserved

"Freedom" by Bei Kuan-tu

—Dance of Freedom” by Reza Sepahdari

Do you know what freedom is?
An exiting of the 'nest of knowing',
a burrowing beyond what is,
soaring into life's uncharted mysteries.

Freedom is color transcending its earthy palette,
sun penetrating shadows.

Freedom is where thought gives way,
like dew co-mingling with light.

Freedom is the extinguishing of all concepts,
awakening to vastness
to a windless silent sea.

Freedom is what we have unknowingly
always known.

© 2013 Bei Kuan-tu All Rights Reserved