I rake this sand because I think that that’s zen

it seems zen-like to rake sand in my new zen garden, right?

then Jack runs through it barking, wanting to play, making a mess with paw prints and holes

freshly raked sand is his play box

and I wonder, what’s the point?

is ten minutes of raking perfect rows for one whole minute of permanence— zen?

I’m momentarily angry


his eyes dance, his tail wags and he barks

I smile at him

I love Jack

I love this moment


zen is temporary

zen is impermanence—

it’s raking for Jack

About troysherdahl

A blue-collar bohemian with a penchant for fine words and dirty jeans.
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