by Carol Fields

I love the metaphor
Of Zendo on wild and neglected
Landfill
Reclaiming
Our usual samsara collection
Of tendencies and fears
Misdirected certainties
And lack of appreciation
Oh, thank you!
For raising the simple chants
Of glorious love and freedom
On sacred land
Still cherished by flowers, medicinal weeds,
Coyotes, hawks, and stray searching cats
And looked to hopefully
By young gardeners
And old sojourners
Battle-scarred
And otherwise
Without a psychic home.
Thank you, robed-ones,
And ancestors,
And self-effacing wanderers
Knowing somehow
That this, invisibly, is home.