We toast our last bits of cinnamon bread,
brew coffee, sit by the open patio door.
It’s more than twenty degrees cooler 
than yesterday. I read a dharma talk
aloud after refilling my coffee mug.
This is our second time through
“Not Always So” by Shunryu Suzuki,
and we are nearing the end of the book. 
Sometimes we struggle with his English,
like when he says to accept “things as it is,”
but it reminds us how everything is one
and then it makes sense. We accept.

We came to Zen late, had to get used to
sitting on a zafu, holding still, just being.
Dharma talks have their own lexicon,
unfamiliar to people raised Lutheran and Catholic.
But it suits us, this Buddhist way, this simple,
logical directive to notice all that’s here,
be patient with all that is, trust ourselves.
I’ve always wanted to trust myself,
not some god whose very distance
keeps his robes white.
Suzuki Roshi tells us Buddha is me, is you, is us. 

We are all holy.