My Morning Hike
by Rob Littler
Dry mountain sunshine is rising
On my left shoulder, I can see it
Though my eyes are closed. The hawk,
Circling behind me is tilting its head back
And forth, eyeing my permanence. The wind
Gathers at my feet and back, I know
There is a rock cave high above the trees visible,
My journey has already been—this walking inch
By inch, made comfortable only
By the familiarity of the endurance.
I could explode and become the landscape
Itself, losing myself to the micro-ecosystem, become
The blade of grass, the movement brought about
In wings via the bird’s delivery of my pecked-over
Remnants. I could bury myself in that, happily. But
I think not. I am selfish about experiencing loss of self.
Buddha made it and was fine. I want to let my knowing
Creak like a door spring, expanding and contracting, I am
Chasing being enlightened, not enlightenment.
Posted on 09/02/2014
Copyright © 2021 Rob Littler