Lojong Poems: Six
Between meditations, treat everything as an illusion
the window is just how I see it, but not
the window itself :: the mind plays
make-believe with familiar objects, with
perception :: an open door, a photograph
was that really her all those years ago?
it feels like a dream from which I awoke
and went about my day :: brewing coffee
wearing Levis, driving to work downtown
but it was my camera, my eye behind
the lens, the shutter blinks and twelve years
have passed :: a photograph, the window
is not really a window after all
and the fragile line of memory is not
really my life :: sitting on the cushion
all is so clear, then I step to the window
and see only the shadow of the who I am
Tags:
No comments:
Post a Comment