I sit on the meditation cushion,
Fidgeting with Death,
Loss and
Grief.
I’m trying to remember: “How do I navigate these obsessions, these koans?”
“How do I cross to that distant shore – the one called ‘Acceptance’?”
I search within but find no map to guide me.
Outside: a sun-bright, bitter winter day.
Black alders frame sky and icy pond.
High above, a solitary leaf stutters to life and takes flight
. . . And then . . .
Plummets to the frozen ground.
Now I remember . . . Now, I can weep.
David Hanig 