Seeking Refuge

The birds wing on a chill swift wind,

I spend the weekend running away from myself.

Sanctuary

Sanctuary

How can I be a sanctuary when I cannot abide my own inner home.

I run.

I eat dinner with children, one tells me I have a great energy, a great spirit.

I can see that I do.

So then why am I here wishing my life away.

In the morning I go to a place that is ethereal

hoping to find some hidden message in decaying heaps of gravel.

Hoping to find beauty in the stark lighted edges, and the multicolored rocks and the green waves as they crash on the shore.

I pray to the god of fire,

And blow and blow

My inner fire burns so bright

why do I not warm my own self by it?

Why am I upset when others want to quit

when I do not want to be there either.

Ugliness

Stark ugliness.

I have a great spirit.

I have not learnt to find refuge.

And there it is, in the middle of the night

Learning to value the sleepless hours

it occurs to me

To take refuge in the dharma

to take refuge in myself

I wake unable to find words to express.

I am utterly turned inside out.

I watch as the birds dance on the chill wind

for now,

I withdraw.

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