meditation, zazen, Zen Poetry

Before Meditating: A Reminder to Self (or, just what the Self always wanted)



although here a body sits
on the cushion “I” don’t exist
“My” thoughts are self-feeding
not something worth heeding
like this bird chatter that natters-
not a thing that matters

the mind holding fast
to future and past
can cease to hold sway
’til some other day
For now this body that sits.
Is not that…..  is THIS

meditation, poetry, rebirth, zazen, zen, Zen Poetry

after August rain


mushroom closeup

From the dark earth
freshly-formed mushrooms emerge
Young Red-tailed hawk squeaks:
“Feed me!”
The mockingbird answers:
“Feed yourself”, in its hawkiest voice
Old/new water now tickles
the weeds in the stream
Emerging from the musty barn zendo
what may appear humdrum
is athrum with nowness