Every request could be seen as the ask of reality to engage it unfolding what is to come.
Or, another perspective:
“As Bokonon says: 'peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lessons from god.” ( ― Kurt Vonnegut, Cat's Cradle)
The silence moving through barn at 4am, temperature 9°, out to winter zendo, bowing, raising thermostat, ringing Tibetan bell, pronouncing (bubba, richard, rob) names of only three of our departed sangha. As earlier in poetry circle, we pronounce Anne, Walt, Maggie, Lydia, and Sheilah’s names — whose physical presence we no longer see nor hear on Friday’s at poetry, tea, and thee.
The separation between those of us seen and those not seen seems less and less apparent.
As poet Robert Lowell told us —
We are poor passing facts, / warned by that to give / each figure in the photograph / his living name. (— Lowell, end-lines of poem “Epilogue”)
In wohnkuche, woodstove warms, green woolen Irish fedora placed back on shelf, brown cloth Franciscan zucchetto placed on head, and stairs climbed back to room,
Soon enough, our stoic friends at prison remind, there will by no one here to remind we are mortal, therefore deserving of kindness and compassion as we mull such a thing.