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A tribute to the Golden Days of Yesterzen…

Jonesing for enlightenment,
I sit zazen.
Tongue tucked tight
To palate,
Eyes on nothing
And everything
Like mind
Monkey mind
Scramble slitherscramble
From tree to tree
Attach to anything
Frantically grabbing
As I watch me
Scramble sittingscramble–

Breathe boy,
Count the breath
And nothing else.

What will it be,
This enlightening?
Will I know?
Will I glow?
Will it show?
I can’t wait
For the peace.
I can’t wait
For the release.
The sitting’s hell
On the knees
The squirrel is skittering
Among the trees
Attach to anything
Frantically grabbing–

BREATHE BOY.

Count the breath
And nothing else.

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One Comment

  1. “I can’t wait
    For the peace.”

    Big meaning for such a tiny sentence.


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