Monika John
Dependent Co-Arising and Spilled Coffee Last minute rush - here I am againlate for the morning’s teachings.Time crept imperceptiblythen suddenly galloped at demon speed,depositing me in the midst of confusion.In the Tibetan language confusion and illusionare one and the same word.I place my cushion in an open spacewhen the man behind me commentsabout my occupying ‘prime real estate.’He seems to claim the open gapas his personal easementfor a better view of Rinpoche.I offer to change places with himbut compromise does not appeal to him-subtle complaints suit him better.Naturally I spill my coffeecreating a further flurry.A personal query arises:when will I learn to managemy time and when will I learnthat I have the right to be where I amright here this very moment?The questions are very familiar.There is no point in blaming myselfnor the fellow with the land baron spirit.Two of us splashed on both sides of the pondcreating a cresting wave in the middle,and together we ride the tidesof disturbing emotions in the sea of samsara. Poem by Monika John, a writer, attorney and world traveler. She lives in Washington State. Her writings have appeared in various journals and magazines in the USA and UK: most recently Urthona Magazine, UK, Penwood Review, Presence International Magazine, Anthology on Tagore, UK, Fungi and Quiet Shorts Magazine, Buddhist Poetry Review, Sathya Sai Newsletters, Scheherazade’s Bequest, 2014 poetry to appear in Lalitamba, New York and Light of Consciousness, CO.