pondering,

with wandering mind,

contemplative practices

with elaborate histories,

while beside me

the black cat

purrs.

i gaze in the same direction,

and for a moment,

this.

THIS.

(surrounded by teachers we refuse to be taught! expecting, as if by magic to be caught into the arms of Love,

or refusing to see the lesson plan, we spin the same stories over and over –

never picking up our needles to knit ourselves a decent pair of socks to walk our sacred path in )