Six Notebooks

I could write about the three treasures, a squash or anger. 
Or maybe all three. 
Buddha, dharma , Sangha 
A squash 
Hard, enraging anger transformed into 
By taking refuge, this morning 
Taking refuge in Sangha first 
The showing up, always the showing up 
For myself and dedicating it to 
All beings, everywhere 
Taking the cushion 
An act of faith 
In Buddha dharma Sangha 
Taking a seat engulfed in rage 
Feeling it’s hard burning lava 
In those first moments 
Bowing to the anger, deeply, deeply bowing. 
And turning it into 
Then being invited to recall 
A moment when the universe opened 
A squash on an early fall day 
Backyard garden 
Sunlit, warm, plucking a squash 
Holding it, freshly harvested 
In that moment time and space stretching 
Every seed and every squash back to the first seed 
Opened in my , mind is not right, 
In that moment, the interconnectedness of all things 
Opened in this space 
Opens now, again, at the invitation 
Of the Sangha, at the invitation to recall a glimpse 
Of one moment when all things opened 
I could write about 
Three treasures, anger a squash 
About transformation 
Of all in this and this in all 
And just one moment 
Of infinite connectedness 
Through space, through time, through a squash 
The seeds and the seeds back and back 
And forward also 
Buddha, dharma Sangha 
Anger 
A squash 
May all beings  
Everywhere 
Every time 
Have one infinite moment 
Of ease 
That stretches through this 
Boundlessness 
Through and into, back out of this 
Boundless heart. 
 
PWS 20210408