True Discipline
Sitting in the spring field,
Wildflowers push up from the dampness,
Clouds chase each other,
Buds grow from their mother tree arms,
Ferns green,
The hawk crouches proud,
Does rustle behind the thickening brush,
Readying for their new fawn arrivals.
Spring bursts open,
I ask myself,
What kind of discipline is this,
That creates this spring bliss?
A discipline that we know nothing of.
The beauty and power that flows from nature’s passionate discipline,
Entices us to commune with wonder,
Creates only what is beautiful.
Our human idea of discipline,
Arises from our bondage of fear,
From our need to keep up, to move ahead.
Our human idea of harsh discipline,
Repels deep communion,
Can never create,
The heroic Surrender and vulnerability,
That creates this spring bliss…