Spring And All

Zen Throw Down

Chop wood. Carry water. Dōgen Zenji

Invitation

The cushion calls.
A spring morning:
Everything to lose.

Hoe Hoe Hoe

Hoeing the fresh dirt,
I feel like a mortal god.

The garden looks cold and small,
I feel suddenly warm and vast.

Two Robins watch from a trellis.
The sun rays fall like gifts.
Sleeping muscles wake up.

Life flows through the hoe
Into surprised old hands.

The simple rhythm of action.

Even a tiny spring garden
might lead to insight.

Digging Dragonflies

Sun on my shoulders.
Mud on my feet.

Birdsong and warmth.

Like dragonflies,
liberation lights
unexpectedly
where it will.

Opening lovely
as invisible petals
yet to be born.

No conclusions.

Feeling only what is.