The Place of Great Meditation

There is a place, a hidden place,

Of artful perfection and masterful harmony.

Towering trees enamour the fierce heavens

As mountain ranges dance on the horizon,

As heavy waves yonder kiss the burning coastlines,

As one sits in the center, like a lotus,

In a glade, a pasture, a space, ad infinitum,

Chaliced with empty thoughts so wise.

Yet regard not this place as set, though descried as so:

Trees might be towers; mountains as hills; the ocean,

The sky; the glade, the pasture, the space, as a normal

Site. Though ad infinitum, it is limited by a person’s respects.

Any or none may forthwith proceed, yet only

They of open minds and steadfast hearts

Can walk the emerald fields to this center.

Of them with stalwart discipline and

A travelling river of faith, only they may

Find the center of the place.

Though briefly vacationed yet lasting in stay,

Those centered like lotuses on a turbulent ocean

Return to unstable hearths and depressed hollows

Sharing the wisdom of the One and the Many.

He and She who champion the depths,

Training black dogs and iron devils:

Go, and herald torches hewn from the trees

Of the place lit in the fires of soul.

 

There are two doorways into the

Place of Great Meditation: First, the hardest yet

Most virtuous, is there; and second, the easiest

Yet impious, here.