Ode to the Mode of This and That

Let me start by explaining that whatever it is that I've learned about Buddhism over the last few years comes from reading and translating classical Chinese poetry rather than from attaching myself to any contemporary school or lineage.  I developed a daily practice that involved reading and translation, at first more than meditation I suppose.

Still I've learned a lot in my own peculiar fashion. Lately I'm surprised to find myself meditating more and translating less or at least thinking these are more or less interchangeable activities. And meditation I increasingly favor, perhaps because I also find it has broader health benefits.

In any case,  I wanted to share with you a poem written this afternoon, which is best described as a meditation, inasmuch as it was composed in the course of spending 15 minutes settling in on the mat.


Ode to the Mode of This and That


There’s so many me's

It’s hard to keep track

There’s the mode of this

And the mode of that

An avatar on Linkedin

At home a married man

Held (I sure hope) in warm regard

By a small circle of friends

Every day it seems

Me becomes ever

More prolific

Then there’s

The meditative me

Sometimes the not me

Sitting quiet and alone

On a blue exercise mat

Without pen and notebook

Ready at hand

Outwardly silenced

And more alert

(though ever elusive

and easily spooked)

Inwardly laughing

Often so hard my sides

Just might burst

The gnomon of nothing
That resides in my frame
The shadow of a wraith
Or an indistinct flame
When breathing falls stilled
The inspiration still remains