A Monk's Blessing

If ever you fall into dreams and awake at the foot of a winding stone stair, brave the thousand steps and climb with humble courage toward the cloud-top mist. At the top of the stair you may find a thousand butter candles glowing hopefully, like the sound of flapping wings: lighting the moment with magic and majesty. And if you do not disappear into the dancing flames, you may notice the entrance to a small cave, marked by the fingerprint-jewels of the orange, red and buttercup yellow offerings. And should you choose to enter, there may be a monk rocking in meditation (and the sound of your grandmother's rocking chair may peer through the gentle pulse). He may smile to see your sweet bare toes and invite you to sit and receive a blessing. Not missing a rhythmic beat in the buzz of his low-hum meditation, he may make a generous space for you with his eyes. The monk's kind blessing may leave you silent and joyful and you may walk away forever changed. If ever you fall into dreams and awake at the foot of a winding stone stair, brave the thousand steps and climb with humble courage toward the cloud-top mist. At the top of the stair you may find a thousand butter candles glowing hopefully, like the sound of flapping wings ...