THIRD DAY OF SOLITUDE
Today the cold was not relenting.
The cat snuggled in for warmth.
With bellows I coaxed the morning embers.
Outside, the wind, the east wind.
I take an extra blanket for meditation
in the doorless hall.
Old Amitabha sits quietly
gently smiling upon it all.
Later, hanging out washing,
on the lees side of the house
the silence all at once
seems white as milk.
My face in the mirror:
who is that man?
Just an old fellow
with a few jobs to do.
A “codger” is, the dictionary says,
an “elderly eccentric”, “amusing in some way”.
The term is of unknown origin,
but once used to mean “an itinerant beggar”.
It’s a good day for doing nothing.
The cat thinks so too, though every now and then
she scampers up the walnut tree
just to show she can.
Nonetheless,
with a little here and a little there
time stealthily moves on
and soon I'm cooking dinner.
Live in the here and now, they say,
but the far away and times gone by
also have charms,
and tomorrow… it lies beyond the land of dreams.
Replies
Thanks, Adam - hope all goes well for you in UK. Namo Amida Bu.