Paul E Sexton, Poetry
Samadhi Rain


There is a certain
freedom from anxiety
that I have only experienced
walking the deep red carpet
of Lien Hoa Temple
late in the year,
after clocks have turned back,
while a gentle almost hypnotic
rhythmic fading rainstorm is
tap-tapping an aluminum roof
just outside the open window
where a cool sweet breeze
drifts in smoothly
from a moist black night.

It is a peace that I lament
on those loud warm evenings
in July.
When the air seems harsh,
and unforgiving.

I suppose
that in recent years
I have come to believe
that Nirvana,
can be found
in an Autumn rainstorm,
or a still dark night,
but never
in the bright hot Texas summer
where the days are too long
and nothing ever seems
to stand still.

Namo Tassa
Samma Sambuddhassa!