cat is too noisy at night so no longer sleeps inside

i stumble through
the writing of Dōgen Zenji, 13th century
zen buddhist. a filter, 
human mutterings pass through 
from those who pre-date him. the weight
of his words encouraging me 
to focus my attentions on one thing, 
to limit my skewering, to gather myself against 
the dismantling of our prismatic distractions. 
i look at the cat 
that sits behind the wide glass of a yawning 
door. it is outside of my temporary inhabitance, 
this house belonging more to it than i. watching
the cat in its back yard and thinking of acceptance
and fracture. attempting to do 
many things at once, against the advice 
of a 13th century zen buddhist, i feel 
myself as cat. sitting behind a window, looking 
with casual interest at a food bowl 
just out of touch. if i am to focus on one 
thing perhaps it is the plastic bag
i should focus upon, formed through 
with breeze, its motion of emptiness.
is breeze singular in its attentions? has it achieved 
its mastery of being? its is a touch 
that is touchless, after all. is it emptiness 
which fills the plastic bag, snagged 
on a tree branch or the raw edge of a chain
link fence? it is the plastic bag blown 
on the forming touch of breeze that i attach myself to,
as the cat sits in its backyard. 
as i embody the form of visitor in its breakfast 
bowl’d home. the cat doesn’t right now yowl 
or mew. the plastic bag does not rasp 
at the hand of the wind’s mastery. i am not focused 
on a singular action. in empty self 
indulgence now imagine myself as starry field; too 
scattered to contain focal point, seeking acceptance
with oafish motion of beginner’s touch. wrapped 
in plastic, behind glass, filtering centuries-old words,
in brief blossoming of inhabitance. a proliferate,
in pursuit of nothing.

Published by Zak

an intertidal island in an ocean of impermanence.

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