Ceiling
Lying on
the floor,
I am
pondering the patterns,
the lace
of lines and lattice
on the
ceiling.
And, the
dust on the fan
has been
there
as long as
my gray hair
but, I
don’t care.
When I let
go of myself,
I become
the ceiling.
When I
turn on the fan,
I am of
the dust.
The cat in
the window,
excited by
leaves blowing by,
tries to
catch them
if they
come close enough.
He is
destroying the blinds
but I
resign
that they
are not mine.
I’ve let
them go.
For, one
day they will blow away
like the leaves.
Anyway,
it’s a sunny day.
Sacred
beams of Buddha light
shine on
the backdrop
of a pale
blue Autumnal sky.
There is
nothing to do but be.
There is
nothing to be
but what I
do.
And, when
I go out
I am
within you.
And when I
am in
there is
nothing I am without.
At 3:00 I
fell asleep
and
dreamed of Irish Mountain.
I’d tell
you about it
but I’ve
already forgotten.
Irish Mountain -- Lois C. McLean
Irish mountain is located above the New river (the oldest river in North America, and the 5th oldest in the world) in West Virginia. It was named after the Irish people who settled it, beginning with Maurice Sullivan from County Kerry in 1855, followed by John Quinlan from County Clare in 1856. The McCarthys, Nees, Dillons, Carsons, and O'Connors arrived in the 1860s. The 1880 census listed 43 people in 8 families on the mountain, which grew to a population high of 82 in 17 families in 1910. In 1876 Sullivan sold an acre to bishop J. J. Kane of Wheeling, who built the 1st Catholic church in Raleigh county there 2 years later: St. Colman's, named after 1 of the over 200 Irish saints of that name
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