Silver edge cuts now
Pale green leaves flash in sun light
Balanced blade in my hand
Breath is slow and sure
Shoulders relaxed, blade moving
Now raised, tip falls up
Three bows – aching knees
Sunday morning trilogy
Three draws – center – rise
When I was younger, Sundays were for sleeping in. We would grab the morning paper, make coffee, unwrap day old pastry and return to the luxury of our bed. We would laugh at the comics, complain about the quality of the local news writers. The world could end and you wouldn’t know it until page eight.
These Sunday mornings became scarce when our son arrived. The morning routines wove around his needs and desires. Occasionally, he would join in our favorite pastime or we would make the time for it and include him and his favorite books and cartoons with extra precautions taken for spilled milk and cracker crumbs. As he became older, Sundays came with visits to the local Unitarian church. Our attempt open spiritual paths without the burden of doctrine.
Our son has moved out of the house and is living in the far off land of Los Angles, CA. Sunday mornings are once again ours. However, instead of sleeping in, we find ourselves at our computers with our coffee and pastries – reading the news and indulging in unlimited comics. My Sunday mornings,also, include the study of Ken Ai Do, a meditative sword art. Instead of wood pews, I kneel on worn carpet or on the soft green grass. I reflect on nothing – the empty mind. My sword accompanies me as a friend, a mentor, and an extension of myself. The live sword requires focus and attention. It demands an awareness of the without thought. There is no room for distractions.
Connect life and air,
Breathing in – the sword rises
Breathing out – it falls