I’m still half asleep, but a lonely zafu is beckoning.
The tiny sanctuary is already bright with sunbeams;
the candle flame is bold and unwavering.
Incense trails wander lazily through the air
crossing paths with dozens of tiny dancing rainbows
thrown out by a slowly spinning window crystal.
Outside the birds are in full shout,
busy about the business of birding.
What a treasure, to find such languid leisure
in the pleasure of now!
Suddenly I notice that these three words share a common component: pleasure, leisure, treasure.
They all end with ‘-sure.’ And that makes me think of surety.
What is the ultimate surety?