Fall Through: Ups and Downs

I've never been one
To believe in reincarnation
Yet, it does seem to me as if
My life is but one syllable
In a vast machination

Just as I think I've performed
My last discursive dance
I find I've only elided
Into the next utterance

At some time - I cannot say when
There was Nibbana
And then a return,
A very painful one!

Having stuck on one word
I hung out to dry on the other,
which was where my teacher came in
('Lucky' her!)

Then having found my way back again
And learning the trick
Of passing back and forth,
although somehow not getting it at all,

I now but see another layer
That of a a place
Neither Nibbana nor Samsara;
Neither not Nibbana nor not Samsara

And as for what if anything (or nothing)
Could come next,
I will not ask yet
And would perhaps prefer not to apprehend

But wherever I wind up,
Whether moving on, to consonants or vowels,
If water there be we,
May I be blessed with plenty of towels!

Faith: Moving Forward

After the initial
Burst of happiness
Life resumed
It’s usual flawed course

The laptop crashed
Right after my decision to quit,
Has yet to be revived
And I don’t even know if my data survived!

I misplaced the picture
I’d intended for
A birthday card
And spent all night searching for it.

Several days hence
It reappeared
In a place I’d examined
Many times before!

And so the card
Will probably be late
But at least the post office
Stamped the date.

And now up to my forehead
In mounds of paper
And having swiftly, swiftly
Backed up files on my old computer

I’m so very tired
Plus, I have to make my own energy
As from the computer stimulus
I am now deprived
But that may be the best news to have arrived!

Fairyland: First Day Off

What a change! So strange!
But twas a beautiful day, sunny and hot
And towards late afternoon,
I had a peak out

On the balcony,
All was quiet
And so, I decided
To drink my tea out there

But first I had to
Cover the plastic chair
With clean cloth,
As it was dirty on top from lack of use

And then,
I pulled out
The tiny round table,
Painted an ugly shade of pink,

No wonder it was thrown out
By somebody or other,
Because aside from that
It was badly stained,

But to me it mattered not,
As after washing it off
It was perfect for the spot
Right next to my similarly found chair;

And so, after steeping the tea
In a big green mug,
I placed it on the table,
Sat happily sipping it up and appreciating the view.

It then occurred to me I could even read;
I grabbed an old novel, The Mists of Avalon, would you believe?
And read and read, already well absorbed on the tranquil eve
Of my first real day off, in many a long year!