4.19.14 Still A Surprise

Out meditating on this cool Saturday morning,

It still comes as such a surprise to me,

each time I lay down the presence of holding the past and anticipating the future,

like two weighty packages I tend to pick up and lug about with effort. 

Everytime,  I wake with a start and realize that's why my arms feel strained and my step lagging.

I settle, and in doing so, in just watching and feeling as I inhale .... And exhale ... they somehow slip from my fingers, a weight lifted. 

The cool April air around me is contrasted by the profound warmth of the sunshine on my cheek and head and arm - such a delicious, penetrating heat. 

The sky above  so deeply blue and endless, punctuated by the burgundy floret celebrations of the old Maple, singing across the sky.

The Phoebes busily building a nest as they do each year.

The cacophony of the Bluejays as they play and race across the field.

One young Turkey hen steps from the thicket by the forest, out into the field, glances at me, and heads quickly down the hill, and out of sight. 

The earth turns, as I sit, the sun slowly coming into view;

 my feet like roots solid upon the moss,

the clouds on the horizon lifting away from the Tibetan Peace Pagoda, far off in the hills,

 as a Robin trills from the waking Aspen, and the day begins.