Friday, October 12, 2012
We could see each moment as a story,
Murmurs of focused imagination --
Illustrated by the moon or the sun --
From the collected works of satori.
We're told that such enlightenment is rare,
Or as ever-present as the air,
Though only if we take the time to breathe.
The nuthatch can ignore the withered leaves
And be ignored by the leaves in their turn,
But each day we fail to irradiate
The forest with our consciousness we burn
It down. We all have stories to relate;
Some we've been shown, but most we must create.
It's the easiest thing, to be. Don't wait.