(For Thich Nhat Hanh)
I go through the simplest tasks
of the day lightened
as the Buddhist spirit of
mindfulness expresses itself
in folding clothes
one warm linen sleeve
lying against another,
the cut grass
in full fragrance around me
as I gather peonies
for the table.
Their tall green stems
languish in the water,
heads resting heavily
against the bowl's rim
as if under the weight
of a long remembered sorrow.
On the kitchen counter
basil for tonight's pesto,
garlic and walnut's sharp woody smell
still on the cutting board,
the boiling water's steam
condenses on the window glass
and I realized how surely
these are nothing
compared to the abundant task
of gathering all this love
Susan Jackson
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