Poem: The grid that held the sky

The grid that held the sky
Whenever doubts clouded my mind
—Should I do this or that?—
I searched the sky for an answer.

Then a mark was drawn
by a divine self
or it seemed like it.

A trail of a plane crossing the sky
as white chalk on a blue board,
offered me the peace I needed:

“Is okay, my child,
I will show you the way”
was read from it.

Sometimes there were two
or three white traces
or even the plane itself.

The sky could be deep blue
or full of clouds, while the lines
played hide-and-seek behind them.

Finally, and without looking for it,
one day I arrived
to the place where all lines met each other.

I was mesmerized
as I contemplated
the grid that held the sky.

I had arrived home,
below the crossing lines,
All my questions were answered.
P O E M

Yanexy Pinedo, Compassionate Reverence of the
Source (pronouns she/her), is a lay friend and
everyday practitioner of the Plum Village tradition
who enjoys reading Thầy’s books, hearing Dharma
talks, and writing in Spanish and English.