Just Another Morning Here

...and that is a good thing. Wandering the yard, dreamy and damp with fog. The cherry tree continues to open soft pink buds. Chickadees complain, eat and flit back to the hollyhock dining room... I've been carefully tending to my body for the past week and whether it is the time or attention, I am feeling a little better each day. So, here is a poem I wrote a bit ago about the comfort I find in nature, I hope you enjoy.

Animal Sutra

Is it sacrilegious to say that they are Buddha embodied?
Present only to the present.
Clinging only to the
bone,
window sill,
threshold of my bedroom door,
in the Oak, Rhododendron
or Arborvitae.

Though I do think my dog has aversion to the door
closing between him and me and
squirrel clings to desire for the bird feeder
despite the slippery
Crisco pole.

Likewise Hawk craves chickadee and squirrel so
perhaps the Buddha projection is ill advised.

It’s just that getting
lost in the syncopated rhythm of
Titmouse fetching seed
to branch to feeder to seed;
The shy pecking of red headed
woodpecker trying to feed inconspicuously in all
its royal splendor;
The flock of turkeys strolling on the deer path that runs up the hill,
Oh, even the dog’s surprised expression when he
yelps at the end of a morning yawn
Awakens in me a new hope
Or rather inspiration or
Less than that, a grounding
into the physical miracle of being.

Just that.

And for a moment or two
I become the Buddha’s cousin’s next door neighbor
And I see
And breathe
And accept.