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.