for Thich Nhat Hanh
How many years of suffering
revealed in hands like his
small and deliberate as a child's
The way he raises them
from his lap, grasps the teacup
with sure, unhurried ease
Yet full of anticipation
for what he will taste in each sip
he drinks as if it's his first time
Lifts the cup to his mouth,
a man who's been practicing all his life,
each time tasting something new.
Art credit: Untitled image by unknown photographer.
Curator's note: Please take my two-minute survey before A Year of Being Here concludes on January 1. It will help me (and any potential publishers) decide upon an anthology of mindfulness poetry.
a poem without ambition, like this one, succeeds succinctly.
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