First Night

After the long day on the trail

The others gone to sleep 

The steady croaking of peepers

And bubbling of brook

Crescent moon through tree tops

Breathing

Listening

Remembering the dark zendo that night

After the long day of meditation

The others headed for home

The flickering light of the single candle

Shadows sweeping the floor

Breathing

Listening

On the deck of the ship

Rocking gently in a sea of stars

Long ribbons of Moonlight

After the long day of shouting 

Hot sun on a tumultuous sea

Breathing 

Listening

In the morning

Sitting here on the log 

A bowl of hot oatmeal

Steam rising through treetops,

Watching for bears.

Breathing 

Listening

But now, 

this night, 

after this long day,

Everything stilling,

Nothing to fear.  

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