Dawn Breezes

Coffee with cream,

steaming into dawn as

a sweet breeze sifts my hair.

Eyes closed in stillness

I hear the ocean in these rustling, rustling leaves

as if the trees speak in the language of waves.

And I wonder if, instead

it’s the ocean calling with the voices of trees.

As the rising steam moves softly sideways and away

I imagine these trees speaking of the shore

as

the ocean dreams of the forest.

And coffee with cream

shifts the waves

of morning leaves.

 

UniverseCheck.

forestcheckPhoto Credit: Anita Bowen Photography

The Slow Road

The Buddhist Temple is just about a mile down the road from my house. About a year ago, I was tickled to be invited to join a Saturday morning meditation group. I was nervous at first that I’d do it wrong, somehow and find myself voted out of the Temple. But, apart from the aches of sitting cross-legged on my aging body, I quite enjoy the peace, appreciate the hour or so, unplugged and unavailable. I’ve been an on and off regular, ever since my first foray into Buddhism–sometimes, life and outside obligations interfere with inner peace.
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