Unknown's avatar

riding derails

I took a train ride yesterday, waiting on the platform
at the station
for the regular run from here,

handing my ticket to the man
in his station master habit,
who took it,
looked at me with eyes that said, “Are you sure?”

Are you sure you want to ride this train?
This particular coach which is going to Vachronwicha

And which could continue onto Vachronwicmi
if you bought the extension fare
at the cost of 30 yersowuks?

Are you sure?

Are you sure that going through Vachronwicha
is really going to change the stale date
stamped into the material of your packaging?
The ink is ragged and faded from being taken in and
out of
your heart freezer
and you’re probably hoping what while it says “Best Before”

It really means “Better After.”

Are you sure?

Perhaps as Station Master I should warn you
that the tracks from here to
Vachronwicha
wind around Oldebrayne which you already
know has a way of making you dizzy and unable
to discern clearly or make a decision
to stay on the rocking train or step off onto the
upcoming platform –

where you should sometimes stop
if only to check out
the incredible view
of Althais.

Of course, if you are
True to Form
you will likely continue on to
Vachronwicmi

where you like to sip on the
teas grown at that altitude
of misty memories and wishful
thinking,
and slip into the baths of
O’owdidishapin,

followed by dinner at Ymi.

Are you sure?

The train whistle blew – twice,
three times,
and the man in the old habit of
station masters
cried out,

“Alllll…aboard?”

And I waved.

Genju

Unknown's avatar

missing the boat

I’m a derelict today so please enjoy this awesome poem we heard read last night by Sensei Beate Stolte in her talk from Upaya: Fundamental Point of Zen:

Missing the Boat

It is not so much that the boat passed
and you failed to notice it.
It is more like the boat stopping
directly outside your bedroom window,
the captain blowing the signal-horn,
the band playing a rousing march.

The boat shouted, waving bright flags,
its silver hull blinding in the sunlight.

But you had this idea you were going by train.

You kept checking the time-table,
digging for tracks.

And the boat got tired of you,
so tired it pulled up the anchor
and raised the ramp.

The boat bobbed into the distance,
shrinking like a toy–
at which point you probably realized
you had always loved the sea.

Naomi Shihab Nye Different Ways to Pray– Breitenbush Publications, 1980


Thank you for practicing,

Genju