Friday, September 14, 2012

When The Dalai Lama Comes To Visit

                                           Household Cleaning Book:  Self Sufficiency


It seems like dust,
this accumulation of faults,
amorphous, floating,
looking for a place to land.
Settling on a waxed table top,
a fold of my robe,
between my teeth.

I spin like a top
to cleanse my breathing,
my delusions waiting
to be swept up, altered.
On I run to purge this vessel,
so that I can receive
a pop in
from the Dalai Lama.

Hosts of life itself,
on my shoulder,
a line of Bodhisattvas,
telling me to hush, and purify.
A poke in the ribs,
take notice of the stain left untouched.

I rinse the flaws
from the fabric of my mind,
sweep away the soil of my indifference,
light up the path
to the assembly of my soul.

A knocking at the door,
the Dalai Lama and the Buddha,
hand in hand!

Copyright/ all rights reserved/ 2012


dori said...

Beautiful, love it. Makes me wanna do the dishes -- just in case. Thanks for sharing your gifts with us.

Lyn said...

Hi dori- never know who's going to show prepared!


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