Poem: Ascutney Retreat 2000

The mountaintop with her autumntrees, A silent ski lift, 2250 feet to the top. Laborious steps to the summit then down. The warm sun, green grass, wild flowers. A monk slowly eating alone at a picnic table. Small children playing with a ball. My eyes with glasses to see them all.

A mindful silent meal, Dharma talk, sitting meditation, Practitioners slowly walking to and fro. Not clinging to the past, Not pursuing the future. It's wonderful to be alive.

Bill Menza

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