I found some zen in my garden today.
But that’s no trick.
I find some every time
I enter my garden.
It’s a beautiful place filled with love.
Summer or winter.
Dawn or dusk.
Empty and quiet,
Or loud and full of life!
My garden is loaded with good zen!
After all,
Zen and love
Are the same thing.
Or perhaps two sides of the same thing.
So I use it extravagantly while I’m there,
Blowing it all on the good life!
Wasting it like it was money
Or something equally valueless.
And I take all I want
In a huge doggy bag
When I leave, too.
Ha! Ha!
It’s like I was
A zen-dog millionaire!
Hmmm.
Now I’m worried.
Is this a sustainable practice?
Should I be conserving my zen?
Am I possibly using too much?
How much is there?
Will it last?
Will there be enough zen to keep me
And comfort me in my old age?
Yikes!
At the rate I’m going,
(Extravagant fool
That I am!)
There won’t be enough
To last me more than,
Let’s see… multiply by eight, carry the two,
Hmmmm,
About four trillion years!
Give or take a few hundred millions.
Phew!
For a minute there
(A very un-zen-like moment!)
I was worried.
But I’m okay now.
Four trillion years.
A four followed by twelve zeros.
Four thousand thousand thousand thousand.
4X10 to the power of 12.
Anyway one looks at it,
That’s a lot of time.
More time (by far)
Than the universe has existed,
So they believe.
But just to make sure,
The way time flies around here
And the way I go through the stuff,
I’d better get to my zen garden again pretty soon.
And stock up now for later.
Hmmm.
Now, where did I
Put that
Doggy bag?
