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…