Under a Bodhi Tree One Time

Dhr. Seven, Wisdom Quarterly (EDITORIAL); Ítalo Silva Cano ("Ohm" photo/flickr.com)

An ant crawls along my leg

I do not open my eyes

I took the tiny fruit and fed

A famine-diet in my despair

A fig a fruit a marvelous thing

Its composition some expansion

But what shortcut could undo my rut

I breathe out, I breathe in

Happiness overwhelms me

Blameless and buoyant now

The breath a wiggle, faint osmosis

A trace of refined attentiveness

Without effort, without will

All unfolds, all seems to blossom

I would not move in my rapture

And so comes absorption

Emerging, I turn attention

To this life and its condition

And see that it is no haphazard thing

But born of Dependent Origination

And that realization

Leads to insight, to liberation

This much is sure and there's more --

My time under a tree and the fruit it bore.

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