From The Way of Power, published by Hohm Press, Prescott, AZ

The Wild Dog
Mind resists the orderly,
thinks freedom is in thinking
any thought it wishes.

Like a wild dog who has felt the whip,
the mind snarls
at the hand that tames it, resists

the collar of Attention, strains
at the leash of meditation, claws
and runs to avoid discipline.

A wild dog can be tamed by the whip
but it will turn on you and
at the first chance, run for it;

it will never be good company.
It may hunt, but
it will mangle the bird.

Better the dog who by gentle patience
Is shown the way over and over.
That dog will one day lick your hand,

Will be devoted to you and serve
at quiet command, will lay down
its life at your feet

and when it fetches the bird
no feather will be ruffled,
no toothmark upon the flesh.

Alex at the Waterfall
He is 7 and as old
as they come
and one day he and his
present mother
are high over Falls Creek
when Alex gets to the overlook
and will not go close to the edge.
Why, he is asked.

Because, he says,
I do not want to die
young, before my time;
I don't want to get shot,
or run over, or fall off a cliff.

I want to live my whole life and
die when I'm supposed to die,
not before.

Have you died young before,
in another time?
Yes, he said, but
I had different parents then.
You're the best parents I've
ever had,

he said
and he sat down on a rock and
he did not go over to the edge.