Baptism Equinox

The following poem was written on retreat at the Upaya Zen Center in Santa Fe, New Mexico at a workshop with Natalie Goldberg and Wendy Johnson: Mind of Autumn: Timeless Writing and Zen

Baptism Equinox 

I lost time at the Buddhist Temple. 
Left the cell phone, perhaps with needed intention
On a bench. 
In the middle of the La Posada Hotel lobby. 

Time sits there on a bench. 
Watching the comings and goings
Of Expectation and Consequence. 
The nice couple who just wanted a room with a view. 

The pen is full, though paper empty, 
No clock on the wall. 
They will take care of me, 
Buddha sits before me. 
He is time, 
And complete forgiveness, 
Sitting though the seasons. 
A pinecone placed in his lap. 
Cobweb on pinecone. 
A new home in the Lotus Pose. 

I am the cobweb, 
Creating new places
to walk under a Cerulean blue New Mexico sky. 
It rained last night, 
Rocks dry responsibly as Sun requests them to. 
Skies scrubbed fresh, the Sun pulls back, 
Hibernation begins. 

I am the pinecone in the Buddha's lap. 
Chosen, held, placed by someone else. 
I am the structure for new spaces. 
Sitting in the center of One with An Open Heart. 
Listen, he says, Be Quiet. 

Cricket and dove, pine needles have something to say. 
Through them Wind says hello to Autumn, 
pushing droplets of last night's rain on to my knuckles. 
Bluring the "o" in hello. 
Reminding me that I am real. 
In a skin that feels rain. 

The rain that comes from the place of stars and universe. 
And that's real, too. 
The place where time began. 
With a measurement, and a theory. 
The time we created to mark the hour when I left my cell phone
on a bench in Santa Fe.