today as I oversee the children taking the test. the standardized test. the fear of god in us all, shaking if we mess up we lose our jobs., esl kids, asking what words mean, I cannot help you, translator only works in a few languages, the girl who carried her brother a 1000 miles her language isn’t there, she tries so genuinely, her little sister is afraid of my new hair, i tell her, its okay, just pretend i am ms. gregory’s sister, but just as nice and just as cool, later she says hello ms. gregory’s sister. hello i say, hello and i recieve her hug girl who was carried by her older brother, a 15 year old, who is succeeding famously in school, only been her what two years, it is not a testament to love but to persistence, perseverance, to fortitude, to inner strength, to the gift of an inner light
i wander around the room in figure eights, stopping in vision of the glass windowed door, making sure i am always visible, my shoulders ache, i stand tadasana standing like a mountain, waiting for the time to pass, strong, strong, strength of mind, strength of spirit, strength of non romantic love, strength of the endless waiting, later when you leave me, i am happy, it is easier this way, i didn’t want to hurt you even though you didn’t deserve my compassion, i still gave it, i think of osama, who has a family, and i am a mountain, i do not wish any creatures death, i do not celebrate the death, or the passing, i simply watch and observe, i can hear the wind in the soft needles of the pines, it is whispering, this probably won’t end well, i should learn to listen to such omens, i had them in bats at dusk from the beginning, misgivings,
standing here in mountain pose, the water droplets run and the small streamlets fall, the gullied streams babble into waterfalling brook, rushing river, endless delta, inland sea, crashing rapids into salty sea, i am standing tall, i am standing mountain pose, tomorrow i will go again to the zen center, tomorrow i will fall on the soft mat and zabuton and i will see that even as i mountain, i must meditate with my sangha, my community of mountains, all in disrepair, i am also, i think i might cry, i haven’t cried there is two years, i think i might be a single drop, it has rained enough these days,
i yearn for the sun,
i yearn for the quiet of my own breath
flowing in and out and in again,
i return to this,
standing mountain pose.