Metta on the track

Auf meinen Wanderungen durch den Busch in den letzten Tagen habe ich ein Gedicht geschrieben.
Metta bedeutet "liebende Güte" (loving-kindness).
Heute Abend hatte ich die Gelegenheit, dieses Gedicht beim Puja vorzutragen:

METTA ON THE TRACK by Eva

I walked through bush, far and wide,
With no clear purpose in my mind.
A glance upwards - sunlight slips
Between the fern and shadowed drips.

A glance forwards - the pathway bends,
Uncertain where its curve will end.
A glance downwards - my feet can feel
Damp earth and moss, soft and real.

And something in me softens there,
Accidentally, easing into air.
A Tui calls from unseen space,
Its song not meant for any face.

Trees gently hold the ground below,
Faithful even after rain and flow.
Roots entangle, streams require,
A sharing path to inspire.

And everything grows bright and easy,
Unforced, imperfect, never needy.
Not demanding flawlessness,
Only asking tenderness.

So, like in the bush, it came to mind,
Loving-kindness is easy to find.
It trusts that presence, full and true,
Is gift enough to carry through.

From there it travels, outward spread:
From self, to known, to feared, unsaid.
To those we struggle to understand,
Still reaching with an open hand.

And when it falters, weak or worn,
It starts again each quiet morn.
The way the light meets daybreak’s face,
Loving-kindness returns with grace.

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