Shady Mu
In the August heat, the Ficus’ shade whispered Mu.
Consciousness imploded. Its burning point
devoured the world. No thought, memory, or emotion
stood its light. Immune to bliss, peace,
and love, it burnt alone.
Barefoot, shirtless, belly thrust forward like
Bodhidharma coming from the West, I walked on. A
herd of elephants would have turned tails at my sight.
And, yet, my neighbor’s dog barks at me as if I were a cat.
