Sitting, Breathing, Learning
Sitting, Breathing, Learning
Mountain breezes riffle Cottonwood leaves
on the towering tree
outside my window
they rescue my focus from work
as deep memory calls forth
a poem by Allen Ginsberg
written at a Buddhist retreat
musing about exhales
in Grand Teton National Park
and their travels around
a spinning planet
before returning to sharp
craggy places of origin
waiting in line patiently
to once again become inhales
off to make
the same journey of roundness…
even the examined life
is like that you know,
repeating the same dances
making costume changes
re-doing make-up
in order to fool us into thinking
experiences are new and fresh
like juicy ripe fruit, just picked
when in truth it’s just
another face on the same old same old
for me to repeat until I finally touch
the essence of the exercise
one fine day perhaps
just sitting, breathing and learning, as
mountain breezes riffle Cottonwood leaves
on the tree outside my window…
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