Conflict changing to taking a step
the hands inside my neck grip tightly
a moth flickers in my stomach
and there is something tight just under my belly’s skin
a moth flickers in my stomach
and there is something tight just under my belly’s skin
someone
is rushing me forward, through and away and don’t stop to look
someone is covering my eyes and whispering stay perfectly still
someone is covering my eyes and whispering stay perfectly still
Today
I met a man who recorded the silence in a prison cell at the National Museum of
Justice. I remembered Palden
Gyatso. He took refuge in his Buddhist practice as days and years of torture and
imprisonment rolled by.
Outside
my window the small white blossoms on the weeping pear tree are giving way to
silver green leaves. A small robin disappears into its tangled branches.


Comments
Post a Comment