from a forthcoming collection, Stirrup of the Sun & Moon
It is not an insistence.
Walkers of The Way
are not heavy-handed like that.
Given to holy observation,
where is the eye pulled?
To what empties out the self
and leaves treasures deposited there.
Given to holy idleness,
how does the heart become content?
Apprenticing to the Four Seasons.
Given to solitary wandering,
how does one learn authentic companionship?
A bird flutters in the silent darkness of branches.
The hazy moon appears to hold her breath.
The teacher answers: