Embedded Files
Going to the Zen Center
At the rest stop on the highwayI wonderif the others I see there aregoing to the Zen Center.
The janitor with the broomhas uncommon wisdom.A young womanwith a purseis unhurried and calm.
The people in the carson the roadbeside mesmile like sunshine.There is no distance between their smiles.and the light of the winter dawn.
Every face is familiarwhile yet unknown-Eyes telling the same storyof longingand yet Freedomin the twinklethat betraysthe secret of theKnown unknown.
To each I murmur“I have seen you many timesin this life time and others.I have wandered in your circles andnow see you again.”
Will I meet you on themeditation cushionwhen the chant becomes quiet?Or know you in my heart whenmy heart becomes still?
Have you ever been goneor have I only been dreamingthat you who are really mewere separate asif we have been only objectsand not faces of the Same?
Leslie Ihde lives in upstate New York with her husband, her golden retriever and three cats. She works as a psychotherapist and as an artist, writing poetry to mark moments of insight and gratitude. She calls her practice Inner Art to describe the work of seeking insight while making art or writing creatively.
At the rest stop on the highwayI wonderif the others I see there aregoing to the Zen Center.
The janitor with the broomhas uncommon wisdom.A young womanwith a purseis unhurried and calm.
The people in the carson the roadbeside mesmile like sunshine.There is no distance between their smiles.and the light of the winter dawn.
Every face is familiarwhile yet unknown-Eyes telling the same storyof longingand yet Freedomin the twinklethat betraysthe secret of theKnown unknown.
To each I murmur“I have seen you many timesin this life time and others.I have wandered in your circles andnow see you again.”
Will I meet you on themeditation cushionwhen the chant becomes quiet?Or know you in my heart whenmy heart becomes still?
Have you ever been goneor have I only been dreamingthat you who are really mewere separate asif we have been only objectsand not faces of the Same?
Leslie Ihde lives in upstate New York with her husband, her golden retriever and three cats. She works as a psychotherapist and as an artist, writing poetry to mark moments of insight and gratitude. She calls her practice Inner Art to describe the work of seeking insight while making art or writing creatively.
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