tired monk stayed up late
a vigil
thunderstorms after midnight
violent warning on the radio
he could hear the rumbles
off to the west at two
a few sips of tea
the trees sway
booms up in the ravine
porch beams creak
by three the trees splitting,
smashing
as the storm hits
the monk settles, unmoving
asleep on his rice mat
nice. i too love to sleep when it storms...it calms me honestly...
ReplyDeleteWhat a lullaby... :)
ReplyDeleteah i can see you!
ReplyDeleteBeautifully penned.
ReplyDeleteThis melodic piece shows true devotion.
ReplyDeleteOh the monk always so mindful of the moments of his life in storm and sleep...bkm
ReplyDeletewonderful poetry...the monk so able to accept the threatening storm and pending danger...i grew up in the midwest spent many a nights hiding in the basement during violent thunderstorms and tornado warnings...to think if there was a chance at another lifetime, i could be a monk...to know their discipline and devotion...again, wonderful poetry...
ReplyDeleteI wonder if he covers himself in a blanket. My guess is no, on his simple peaceful journey through the stars.
ReplyDeleteWhat kind of tea was it? Kava root?
Being calm in the midst of a storm...this Monk sounds like my kinda people...(^_^)
ReplyDeleteStorms without, calm within, the storm of life rages on whether you sleep or cry, so I'm with the monk on this one.
ReplyDeleteRead this several times. Really liked it, the contrast.
ReplyDelete