Crevice: Looking Up from the Depths

Five minutes to go
Before off to work again,
Until then
I have to write fast,

Today the emotions flashed,
And a few insights passed by
My roving inner eye,
With no particular results,

But for what results am I looking?
Don’t think I’ll find them here,
But not sure where else to search;
Feeling for all the seekers,

Wish I could spare them
All that grief,
If I only had the means,
But I don’t think I have that either;

Is this compassion?
Perhaps,
Or simply some sort of longing
I cannot identify.

Oh well,
I’m running out of time,
Have to go and listen
To more of others’ woes

That’s my job,
To listen
And be there
For those for whom I can be,

And that’s all
I can do for now,
Until some better way
Occurs to me or arises.

Crevasse: Blown

Woke up groggily,
Backache and shingles itch,
Still feels muggy,
As usual, made some coffee,

Listening to an audiobook,
No Buddhism, but science fiction,
Giving the Buddha a rest
As he’s been working way too hard lately,

Continuous effort may be
Some sort of standard,
But around here
Everybody needs a break some time,

But what is a break?
Reality never stops rolling along,
But there are interludes of calm
Amongst the throng,

How luxuriously decadent
To have any time at all
To reflect and consider
What’s up,

The view out the window
Is not very restful
For there’s a huge cloud bank
Blowing past with great speed,

The white fluffiness
So glaringly bright
It hurts my sleep-crusted eyes,
And I turn away blinking,

Losing all track of
That to which I’m listening
While I’m typing,
Pausing occasionally to take a sip,
Way too busy already, and barely mindful at all!

Crestfallen: Unnecessary Agitation

I made a mistake
That took hours
To correct,
But that wasn’t
The end of it,

For I’d made another major one
Prior to that one
Within the same document,
How annoying!

And it would probably have remained
Uncovered, undiscovered
If I hadn’t corrected
The first one.

Both frustrating,
And stimulating;
I may be up all night
Recovering from this run,

After all that metta too,
To get so excited,
Wisdom bypassed this time
Or so it seems,

Stumbling around,
Falling in and out of trouble,
Bursting the bubble,
Stubbing my toe I hobble,

Rubbing my sore foot
And wiping my brow,
Exasperated and exhausted
All over again,

No use reacting badly
As it’s up and down as usual,
But I did it anyway,
Force of habit I suppose.