Made for our recluse, shut out from society, again and again
Invited to play, they couldn't understand her, the way her mind works
Rigorous in thoughts, more like Immanuel Kant than Tom Sawyer, say
Religion took hold as a form of discipline, just sitting, zazen
Ordained as a child, meditation practice helped open up a space
Rest as the one goal, to conserve her energy, as one of her quirks
Energy to sit perfectly still, a mountain, Meru, a good day
Disciplined, a fault no one could break her habits, she was left alone
Decisively set in her ways, she grew older, eminent in grace
Oblique as her room, a mirrored dormer, facing westward into dusk
Rachel, pure as fleece, white as snow but a black sheep as her character
Mirrored the empty-handed practice of her style, she appeared too brusque
Especially when they expected a woman as a corridor
Rooms, a passageway, easy access to entry, not hard as a bone
No comments:
Post a Comment