Sitting Upon the Cushion

Sitting upon the cushion,
this body feels like a delicate bug,
softly resting upon a lotus flower.

Each breath is sweet nectar
And with these breathes,
Awareness comes into focus
like a sharpening telescope.

Sharpening in on the bright, twinkling stars
waving back from the furthest corners,
of the Universe.

This sharpened awareness is crisp,
crisp and clear,
as a cobalt blue, Colorado sky
in November.

My wife's pitter-patter typing
on the keyboard is one.
One with the pitter-patter
of the rain outside.

Soon I find my breath,
in sync with the typing
and the rain.

All in the One unfolds
and yet again,
peace and harmony
is revealed.

All is revealed in time,
as even time is an illusion,
that can be decoded.

And soon only silence
remains.

Breathing with the silence,
a bell rings gently off in the distance.

And the bug separates.
Separates from the lotus cushion.

PHOTO: This is a picture that I took of our Avalokiteshvara statue.