we celebrate all things

we celebrate all things
flowers left to be gazed at, picked, arranged, &
placed within a blue ceramic vase

a gift from the mad monk
who ran a store in the west village
by the same name--
who gave me this blue ceramic
curved vessel, as a way

of saying thank you
for the massage i gave him
on his dining room table
on the east village side street

with a glorious lobby
housing crystal vases full
of asters, zinnias, and daisies
a huge picture window behind
the elevator--

where one could gaze
at wildflowers growing
in the blue slated courtyard
huge pots of flowers breathing

life for city dwellers looking
for a little oxygen, a little
respite from the stress of traffic
and unrelenting urban noise

the mad monk offered me a glass of cabernet
i declined, and asked for a cup of green tea
with lemon; we spoke of simple times
me: having lived at a zen center
upstate new york, only three years before

he: having lived a life of wannabe zen monk,
running a store-- a facade for his inner promptings--
the closest he could get to being a roshi,
within  a monastery--and customers responded in kind-
a reverence shone in their eyes

we laughed and cried joy tears, as we regaled
various zen teacher & authors we both loved:
d.t. suzuki, whaley, and my beloved teacher,
now passed on, john daido loori;
he told me i looked like emily dickenson,
with a suntan(i blushed)

as the sun set through the kitchen window
i felt it was my cue to leave
down one flight in the elevator
back to the ground floor of existence
the lobby hosting flowers, now curling up for evening

i skipped outside; the night was cool, yet
comfortable, as i was wearing white sweats
i hopped on my yellow ten speed,
& petaled crosstown-- to my humble
west village walk up: thompson street

sandwiched in between
west third and bleeker;
lugged my ten speed
up six flights of steep wooden stairs
and floated into grace

Kate Lamberg
10/5/12

golden california poppies, on pacific street, bellingham, wa.~photo by Kate Lamberg~