Sometimes,

     Life becomes too full to be comprehensible.

I know too many cities

     To be able to grow into any one of them.

Too many acquaintances to have any real friendships.

     Too many books to know any of them well.

The quality of my impressions gives way to quantity,

     Making life seemingly like a movie.

With hundreds of kaleidoscopic scenes

     Flashing off and on in my fields of perception.

All of them gone,

      Before I have time to consider them.

I believe we need a deeper sense

     Of the delusions behind rampant materialism.

A deeper sense of the wisdom in

     Silence, nature and tradition.