Sunday, October 24, 2010

Dharma Sharing


Occasionally, as you speak, a tear pops from the corner of your eye,
beginning its tentative journey down your cheek.

You ignore the single drop, waiting for an accumulation of at least two or three
before wiping your face dry with a tissue that you held ready.
Efficiency.

Speaking, you offer disclaimers:
“This probably doesn’t make sense, but…”
“I’m such a cry-baby…”
Antiquated formalities.
Anachronistic now, as I feel only:

compassion for your suffering
and admiration for your courage.

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