Breath Meditation

a poem

Here is the place
Where ocean meets land
Where the waves
Come in
And go out

In
And out

The sandpiper rushes in after the receding the wave
Poking around for a morsel.
Surely she prefers that moment of the
In
And out.

The incoming wave stirs up food
For all the tiny clams who wait for dinner.
Surely they prefer that moment of the
In
And out.

Should I prefer the in?
Then the sandpipers have no chance to eat.
Should I prefer the out?
Then the clams will be without food.
In
Or out?

Between the tension of decision and position,
I arrive in a middle way of ease, the way of no-preference.
What happens if I dwell here?

No preference of
In
Or out
Destroys the burden of liking and disliking
Which veils the glimmer of what is
Which taints it with "I think it should be...
In
Or out."

So if not
In
Or out,
What is it to experience the shoreline?

Behold.
"Be" the perceiver
"Hold" the perceived
Together as one.
"Behold" what is.
And what is?

Movement.
Neither
In
Nor out.
Sensation unencumbered.
Experience, raw, with wings unclipped,
Free to fly through the sky of my awareness,
Without expectation of
In
And out.

What does the sky see,
With its attention fixed on an undefinable border?
Can the sky find where the sea starts and the land ends?
Untethered by definition,
The sky sees the earth
Expanding endlessly, communing with the whole
Earth
And sea
And whatever.
Is there an end to the sky?
Is there a start?
Is there an
In
Or out?

The sky has nothing to do.
And nothing not to do.
And yet, it sees every
In
And out
Without preference.

In
And out

...
...

..
..

.