The Bell Rings

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Sitting. Still. Mind wandering.

Thoughts come and go, space in-between.

Adjusting form, swishing cloth. A cough.

Stomach gurgling, like a trumpeting crane.

Spine straight, thumbs lightly touching.

Tires crunching gravel, muffled radio from within.

A raven croaks, “Good morning.

I am here. I am awake.”

I am all of this, suchness.

It is all me, ephemera.

Narrow chasms open to wide spaces.

The bell rings and I bow.


Vast and Shining

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Here are some poems that I wrote after participating in a weekend zen retreat that left me feeling settled, gathered, animated and awake:

#1
Bright as a drop of dew in dawns first light
Clearly shining in all directions
Like an explosion of a newborn star
Inconceivably vast, subtle and serene; exquisite in all seasons
Returning to the source, forgetting who
I am at ease, curious and full of joy.
#2
Clearly shining
Infinite and vast
Flowing everywhere
How can there be any lack?
#3
Clear and bright, vast and shining
The subtle source radiates in all directions
I laugh out loud, returning
To cool air and a steaming cup of tea.