Walking Meditation

 

the bird calls. we rise

from mat and pad

and follow its path.

robes swish and sway.

a light wind runs along arms.

step in single file

circle the Buddha who sits

unmoving in the middle,

bird perched in a branch.

round the labyrinth

silent at centre.

we shape an outer ring.

hoop the zen garden

where bird lights on a rock.

wing and feather led, we

loop back to the hall

where we sink onto mats

still as the candle wick.

 

and all the while, between gongs,

we have sat here not moving

under rain on the roof.

yet we find Buddha.

labyrinth, zen garden

all inside us now

after the imagined

ankle flex, arm swing shuffle

follow of the bird.

 

Dorian Haarhoff

Aug 08

 

Poems by Dorian Haarhoff