Our Mission as a Dream
Plant seeds, Practice: There is a beginning memory of a seed planted, her practice was the rosary, my Grandmother; could not see or know how it would blossom.
But blossom it did, now at seventy-three
I hear her whisper as she prays the rosary to my mala. A smile appears briefly as I see the child of five jumping, the light fractured by the crystal beads thrown around the room in rainbows.
I was coaxed off the bed into her arms
The seed was wrapped in love to incubate.
It blossomed many years later when I was to make my confirmation.
Thirteen and rebellious I wanted to be a Buddhist, however, I made my catholic confirmation
I loved her too much to hurt her.
In my heart, the seed had sprouted in zen.
In Buddhism!
To this day I am drawn to crystal beads
They refract the light that seems to promise enlightenment wrapped up in the rainbows, that danced in the light.
There have been many lessons throughout the years strung together in a mala.
Practice
Plant a seed.
