Breakfast in Upaya
A Meditation

By Barbara Ryder-Levinson

A door snaps shut 
plates tumble, one against one
dishes magically disappear

a dog—a bird—a fly—a footstep
seep—a finch
the scrape of a worn heel
the spoing—of a screen door
                                        let go

a throat—a cup—a magpie far off
a rumble low and soft
a machine cycles
on-off, on-off
a  voice in the distance

the rhythm of life
a fly—a magpie—a nervous hum
a throat  a dish   a throat   a footstep

even green tea going down has its say