Galvanize: Metta Renewal

But then now
I return to metta,
But metta
Of a different sort

I intone:
"May I be free
From
Greed and distress towards the world."

And for a while
At least,
Am a diner at a feast
Of tranquility and equanimity

Every time I stray
From the thought for the day,
I bring my mind back
To these eleven words

These thirteen precious syllables
That quiet my thirst,
That burst the bloated bubble
Of the self-centered trouble

Not egolessness
But restraint,
Lacking the taint
Of the defiled world

No smell of rot,
No desperate clawing fingers
Scratching the bottom
Of the empty pot

The din of desires
is silent for a jot;
The difference is:  quite a lot!
And I continue to practice diligently
With it all day long

Gallery: Way Too Much

And furthermore,
Yesterday
Helped someone else
Get some paperwork put away

Now today,
Maybe time to catch up
On my paperwork backup
Of which there is quite a stack up

There never is a lack of
Mounds of paper to pack up,
To sort through
And rack up

It's an endless task
That never goes by too fast,
Full of many days past
Yet guaranteed not to last

I do my best,
To clean up this mess
Which never seems to lessen
No matter how much time I spend on it

The piles ever growing,
Clipped back like hedges
That then keep sprouting
Until cut down once again

How like samsara,
Which keeps rolling
Around in circles
And repeating

All actions
Requiring reactions,
All reactions
Necessitating more actions;
Time and change unceasing

Gallant: Cultivating Seclusion

Cultivating seclusion
From
Greed and distress
Towards the world

This is the recurring theme,
The current scheme
Around which
I organized today's activities

How does one
Seclude the mind
From craving such delights
As a bowl of gourmet stew?

When filthy pesky pigeons
Rudely intrude, getting in the way,
How does one seclude the mind
From greed and distress?

(And these occurrences
Are mere perturbances,
Minor day-to-day irritations,
Not even major catastrophic cataclysms!)

It's impossible of course
But having accepted that as well,
One is free to carry on,
Benefiting now and in the long term

These actions requiring much effort,
Nevertheless provide much temporary relief
From the daily grief
Of plodding through this flawed world

And this work may herald
Further gains:
Freedom from imperfection;
The end of samsaric bane