Tomorrow

Tomorrow will be another try for a period of 'thinking about not thinking'



How to 'try' to think about not thinking?

It is different than trying.



Vietnam doesn't want foreigners hanging around with a robe and a bowl at the pagodas.

The Yen Tu Police came to the Zen Temple and asked me to pack up and go. - My knees and my doubtful mind thanked them.



I refuse to be one of the bald-headed westerners, walking slowly through the park, having given up on the West.



In them, I see my father preaching from a street-side pulpit in Rockland, Maine

The seventies having ended with a crash and come-down

His long hair cut short

His torn blue-jeans replaced with pleated suit-slacks; benders replaced with worship

Internetmonk

Scared the 'jeepers' out of us to come down from Sunday School to see it all

Him standing before the congregation to bless the sweaty, trembling aunts and neighbors, speaking in tongues



Maybe it is a family tradition

Nothing in moderation, not even piety or spirituality

I just prefer robes to a suit





Here is a poem by David Budbill called Tomorrow



Tomorrow

we are

bones and ash,

the roots of weeds

poking through

our skulls.



Today,

simple clothes,

empty mind,

full stomach,

alive, aware,

right here,

right now.



Drunk on music,

who needs wine?



Come on,

Sweetheart,

let's go dancing

while we've still

got feet.