Although this trip to India was not nearly as inspiring as last year's pilgrimage, I still managed to write more than one insight poem in Dharamsala.
Mindful Trek
Mindful steps over rough terrain
the gurgle and splatter of a natural spring
rocks glistening in the sun
sparrows singing and crows cawing
yak footprints and rhododendron trees
the scent of pine and cedar
hawks soaring in blueness
with a backdrop of tree-covered and
snow-capped triangular mountains
are more spiritual to me
than any temple or ceremony.
Nurturing
I have heard that everyone
has previously been my mother.
While I cannot see myself as anyone’s mother,
it is clear that everyone in this sangha
has been my mother previously
and briefly in this lifetime.
Mindful steps over rough terrain
the gurgle and splatter of a natural spring
rocks glistening in the sun
sparrows singing and crows cawing
yak footprints and rhododendron trees
the scent of pine and cedar
hawks soaring in blueness
with a backdrop of tree-covered and
snow-capped triangular mountains
are more spiritual to me
than any temple or ceremony.
Nurturing
I have heard that everyone
has previously been my mother.
While I cannot see myself as anyone’s mother,
it is clear that everyone in this sangha
has been my mother previously
and briefly in this lifetime.
