Monday, August 20, 2012

Under a Bodhi Tree One Time

Dhr. Seven, Wisdom Quarterly (EDITORIAL); Ítalo Silva Cano ("Ohm" photo/

An ant crawls along my leg
I do not open my eyes
I took the tiny fruit and fed
A famine-diet in my despair

A fig a fruit a marvelous thing
Its composition some expansion
But what shortcut could undo my rut
I breathe out, I breathe in

Happiness overwhelms me
Blameless and buoyant now
The breath a wiggle, faint osmosis
A trace of refined attentiveness

Without effort, without will
All unfolds, all seems to blossom
I would not move in my rapture
And so comes absorption

Emerging, I turn attention
To this life and its condition
And see that it is no haphazard thing

And that realization
Leads to insight, to liberation
This much is sure and there's more --
My time under a tree and the fruit it bore.

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