I read about a woman
Who chose cleaning
As her path
To enlightenment.
Rather than beads,
A toilet brush and broom,
From door to door
And train station, too,
Like a servant
Who had been given an example.
What if . . .
Instead of sitting with ‘om’
In my inner-city monastery
I asked my neighbor’s permission
And cleaned the sidewalks
Each morning, raking
Leaves, sweeping litter.
Only one block . . .
One block at a time.”