POYA

It's POYA today, Saturday. For the Buddhist community, a day to go to temple and give thanks. For all of us, it'll be a beautiful full moon sky. Leo and I will join our friends Lynn, Pindi, Cheryl, Jehan, Jason, the big dogs, and other good folks we haven't met yet to celebrate Thanksgiving. We're bringing the green bean casserole. No French's Fried Onions here unfortunately but we have a few other ideas. Speaking of the beans, I suppose I better get to it.

While I'm cleaning beans, Grandmama comes to me in my mind, makin' some comment about how slow I'm moving, about how much of the bean I'm wasting, and in my mind she moves me over to show me how it's done. I find myself smiling out loud as I create my hill 'a beans.

A poem by Mary Oliver for this special day~

Now we are awake
and now we are come together
and now we are thanking the Lord.

This is easy,
for the Lord is everywhere.

He is in the water and the air,
He is in the very walls.

He is around us and in us.
He is the floor on which we kneel.

We make our songs for him
as sweet as we can

for his goodness,
and, lo, he steps into the song

and out of it, having blessed it,
having recognized our intention,

having awakened us, who thought we were
awake,
a second time,
having married us to the air and the water,

having lifted us in intensity,
having lowered us in beautiful amiability,

having given us
each other,
and the weeds, dogs, cities, boats, dreams
that are the world.