and darkness predawn—
my room illuminated only
by blue light emitting diode’s
and the glow of a computer screen.
all seems to move slowly,
for there becomes purpose
in every creak
and every flutter of
emanated sound.
sanctity always fills the air—
and at times like this
the silence is illuminated—
a place of sacred beauty.
the monitor reports—
nineteen degrees outside,
and I am grateful
for the roof,
the walls and the technology
which cradle the inhabitants
of Dharmakaya Buddhist Abbey
in warmth and relative safety.
every movement
results in subtle sound—
so often missed
by a busy mind.
we live a miracle—
we don’t know why.
the picture on the wall
simply says, exhale!
yes, of course,
this is all
by natural process.
thus, I pay homage
to every teacher
and monk,
who has trodden
this dusty path
for the last
two thousand
seven hundred years.
for were I not
to have heard
the teaching,
I would surely
be a poor wretch
right now
scratching out an existence.
instead
I have become
a wretch
who is content
with each moment
of simplicity
and brilliant
wonder.
