eyes widening lotus

The moment I picked up a copy of The Bodhicaryavatara things began to change, a quickening in my guts, around my heart, some recognition of past desires and questions, a fruition maybe now coming full circle – as I walked with the book under my arm I noticed I had already slowed down, my pace, my steps, had to turn the iPod off and listen outside myself, remain in the present, in light; I was then aware of the buds on the trees, burgeoning, sap-filled, sticky and sweet, some perfection of form in the abbey grounds – a lotus unfolding? – In the words of only the first few scriptures I recognized synchronicities, references to the sacred threes that an author pays homage to at the beginning any work – Death past then in the form of a cortege, beneath the wetted oak trees and the tumult of their shedding water, the clear drops falling at the roadside, onto the leaf matter, making sound, applauding the passing corpse . . .

I vow to meditate on at least one verse a day.