Nirvana or Not – a poem by Paige Gilchrist

Nirvana or Not
Every moment, the Zen priest said, can be nirvana or not.

Every moment after my sink drips
me awake at 4:37 a.m.
can be nirvana or not, I need

to know how much in me is a seed
of the suffering, how much to stomach
every moment, said the Tibetan priests
 
who set themselves afire
to feel free can be nirvana
the moment or not the fire
 
is lit on the Molotov wick nirvana
on the lips of Ukrainian priests
deep in bomb shelters offering
 
Eucharist as an old woman holds out a hand
of sunflower seeds, nirvana to the gun
of a young Russian soldier just like her son
 
or not the moment nirvana or not
my bright blue hyacinth sky extends
to an Afghan man who said nirvana
 
would be just a needle 
and thread for a moment
to mend his refugee clothes
 
as if sowing seeds from a global vault
where we saved them, nirvana, all of us
or not to stitch together what we’ve torn
 
and scorched to tack ourselves back
to each other every moment the Zen priest said
every moment can be nirvana.

Paige Gilchrist lives in Asheville, NC, where she writes poetry and teaches yoga. Her poems have appeared in Kakalak, Autumn Sky Poetry Daily, and The Great Smokies Review.