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Visions of Summer in Winter
Apparition
Temporarily immortal
Sue Vincent’s magnificent piece on her Daily Echo is an amazingly beautiful set of visual and verbal truths…
finding suññatā in Lucknow
POSTCARD #249: Lucknow, North India: A short flight from Delhi brought us here, hired car to the Ambedkar Memorial Park. A vast space of nothing but polished marble flooring – no trees, no earth left uncovered. Two and a half acres of marble paving rising in a gentle slope, with some monuments and an avenue with hundreds of life size elephants carved in stone.
The panorama of it, an oasis-mirror-like flatness as far as the eye can see; a heaven realm… hold that thought, from two thousand five hundred years back in the distant past, comes rushing towards us now, into present time, 2017, the Buddha’s First Noble Truth – as valid as it was all these centuries ago.
‘The Noble Truth of Suffering’, yes, I was wondering what that bad feeling is, gnawing away at the innards… the urgency of the human condition applies to everything I can possibly…
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A Barn in Winter
Bare branches
yearning towards
turquoise sky
with fast floating
sunlit white clouds
white above
white below
the snow
hides the land
of insects
and mice
and moles
and snakes
and in the vernal pool
next door
turtles sleep
in their hernaculum
while frogs lay
dormant in the mud
I sit in sleepy
surrender
glad to be
in our little hideaway
in the woods
of our young dreams
wondering
if we will all
awaken
to another Spring.
A Procedure
A brown bag
so fragrant
full of presents
and the smells
of India
crammed full
with treasures
fills me
with such desire
I inhale deeply
and go “under”
falling into the ether
of the subcontinent
Machines beeping
the anesthesiologist
himself an Indian
calms me down
speaking softly
plumping my pillow
a routine exam
so much kindness
as he pumps
anesthesia
through my veins
I awaken
fresh from the arms
of Mother India
in the land
of Morpheus
as I lie before
a wide expanse
of grey sky
over the Hudson
and see God
as boats drift by
Beep… Beep…
Oh to always
see the sky
and the river
and God
and to breathe
the intoxicating
smells of
the India
of my dreams.
all that is born
A wonderful post, close to my heart, from Tiramit at Dhamma Footsteps.com…
POSTCARD #244: New Delhi: Early morning light, people wrapped in shawls, long scarves bound around the head and tied under the chin. Dark faces, eyes looking out and they see me for an instant in a diamond eye-lock as I struggle to look away. They look with curiosity; I think they see me as one of those lost in maya, not in the real world for them, I’m living in a dream. They might laugh to themselves, but not in a hurtful way – I’m pretty sure they see me as a naïve person, like a grown up child, dependent on support mechanisms I pay for with an impossible wealth, as far as they’re concerned, removed from everyday values. They’re right, from where they stand. It’s true, and I’m in awe of them, their existence is unreachable. The actuality of their lives, I know nothing about. My ongoing practice…
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The ER
Chest pain
shaky and
light in the head
go to bed
awaken
at 3 AM
pain in chest worse
down the arm
in the neck
nausea
to wake my husband
or not
decide not
decide to lie there
and see what happens
but first
write him a note
of my undying love
which he finds in the morning
when I am surprised
to find myself awake
husband says to the ER
NO
urgent care center
OKAY
doctor there says ER
despite finding a normal EKG
I say NO
husband says YES
another taxi
to hell
get sent to “geri”
and wait
sitting on top of
sick people
afraid husband
will catch something
I in tears with fears
of being in this
overcrowded, overheated,
festering inferno
with screams
in the background
a man lying on the floor
after an hour or so
can take no more
tell husband
LEAVING
he says
OKAY
even he is spooked
I will never go back
not there
and this supposed to be
an advanced country
how dare we look down
on the developing world
with our pants down.
MOONSIDE 
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