"How Big Is Your Zen?"

(66)

“Interconnected”

Water, rock, plant.

You, me, all.

Past, present, future…

Interconnected!

(82)

“Marriage Zen” 

Boy! It’s hard to be married sometimes!

I suppose I’m not the first person 

To have thought that thought, am I?

Not by a long shot, eh?

I’m positive my wife

Has thought it more than once.

I can’t blame her.

Being married to me isn’t easy!

But being a zen man,

I try to understand

That life is full of suffering

For human beings.

(And all other creatures too, 

But I’m just talking about 

Married creatures now.)

Yes, we all must suffer!

Especially it seems 

For the sake of love.

But if she were listening,

Instead of giving me a beautiful example

Of The Silent Treatment,

And I were speaking,

Instead of hiding in my office

Typing on a keyboard,

I would want to say

To my life-partner;

I Love You.

Are you listening,

Dear wife?

I’ll say it again.

From my heart to yours.

I love you.

Whatever we’re fighting about today

Won’t be important 

A thousand years from now.

I guarantee it.

Only the love we shared

Will be important.

Come, hold my hand

As we journey together 

Toward infinity.

Love

(And zen)

Will show us the way.

(84)

“How Big?”

“How big is your zen?”

A student once asked me.

“That’s an easy one,” I answered.

“My zen is very… er, big.

Or rather say it’s everywhere all around.

Or maybe never-ending is a better term for it.

All encompassing?

Hmmm.

I’m finding it a little 

Difficult to describe,” I admitted.

I was a little embarrassed

And wanted to change the subject.

So I added, “That’s zen for you!”

And shrugged my shoulders.

The students laughed,

And my ignorance 

Went undiscovered

For another day.

Zen!

Zen and the Wisdom of Blueberry Cookies

Zen and the Wisdom of Blueberry Cookies

I suppose I’d better confess

Right up front

That I’m not sure 

What blueberry cookies have to do with it.

Not yet, anyway.

Maybe we’ll find out before the end of this poem.

Maybe we won’t. 

That’s the reason I write these poems;

Anything can happen
In my search for zen!

So that I might,

Respected audience, 

Set it before you.
As I’m doing now.

To amuse or instruct.
It doesn’t matter to me.

I get paid the same either way.

(As the actress once said to the bishop.)

Yes I was sitting here, unpaid, thinking,

“What’ll I write about today?

The stupid deadline is tomorrow.

Where is my doggone muse?

Where is my zen?”

And in came my wife

With some blueberry cookies.

“Yummy! Yummy!” I thought.

But this poem isn’t about my wife,

And how yummy she is.
Which believe me is plenty!

It's about zen.

And whether we'll find any

Before this poem has ended.

“Thanks, gorgeous!” I said,

Admiring her figure

With a one-eyed leer.

“Your cookies sure look good!”

“Now, Rusty,”

She answered firmly

In her southern-belle drawl.

"Never mind all that!
Aren’t you supposed to be writing?"

Then, laughing at my lasciviousness, 
(And delighted for the 10,000th time
That I find her so attractive) she added,

"Oh no you don't!
Not this time!
What about your deadline?

Keep away from me!”

Then with a giggle she ran from the room

And left me to my cookies…

And my deadline… 

And my writing…

So, here we are.

Me, you, my wife’s cookies,
And the memory of her playful presence 
From a moment before.

All interconnected!

All flowing together 

In a wonderful karmic river

With love to guide the way.

That’s 
The zen of it!

Hmmmm,

Well, I think

That’s all we have time for today.

I hope, having read this poem,

You feel better instructed in the

Mysterious ways of zen!

Please,

Don’t bother to thank me.

As I said before,

I get paid the same either way.

Myself? 

I fancy a few more tasty cookies.

Think I’ll go surprise my wife

With a funny little idea I’m having.

Goodbye, friends!

See you next week.

I hope.