A Morning Walk in Late Summer, and a Lesson Taught

Walking with my dog this morning,
with fluffy cumulus clouds
scudding in the cool southeast breeze,
a lesson was given.

I wanted to stride,
to cover road,
to increase my pulse,
but the beagle insisted,
again and again,
that we take the time
to appreciate each fresh smell,
each clump of autumn vegetation,
and enjoy our Now.

Getting further down the road
was not being on our walk:
here and now was where we were,
and he was adamant
that I understand
the concept
of Being,
fully,
in this moment.

The day became more perfect
as I gradually understood
the importance of the lesson:
colours brightened,
the breeze became more sensual,
the texture of the road
showed myriad complex patterns,
and the morning stood still.

Thank you, Sensei,
lesson well taken,
...and well taught.

Late Summer Morning, and Other Dimensions

The dog had been feeling his age,
and curled up at the man’s feet,
feeling the heat of the shrinking sun.

The early morning light
had that brazen quality to it
that seems typical
of early autumn,
or the flames of Natraj’s Circle.

The fog shimmered down the harbour,
granting a lover’s caress
to the willing shore.

The dog thought of dinner time,
and favourite scents,
and pack.

The old man thought of the different dimensions
vibrating at the quanta level,
making us tenants
in Realities that we cannot yet see.