Meditation on the Seven-Twelve

Cars converge on Swindon station,
Strained commuters clamber on,
Briefcase, mala, travel passes,
"Sorry, power unit problems."
I take refuge in the jewels,
Generating Boddicitta,
Through the virtues I, by giving,
"Train departing, Platform one."

Free from hatred and attachment,
"Passengers who've just got on,
Please, your tickets for inspection."
Offer objects of attachment,
Visualise, arrayed before me
All the Buddhas, Bodhisattvas,
Turn the wheel of Dharma for us,
Craving and delusion gone.

Walls of "Times" and "Independent,"
War and famine from afar,
From my heart a dazzling radiance
Streams towards the Holy Beings,
They and I become Chenrezig,
Mists give way to morning sunshine,
"This is your conductor speaking,
Coffee in the buffet car."

Sentient beings, endless suffering,
Love, compassion, emptiness,
Surely turns Chenrezig's mantra
All the ego's forms dissolving
In the bliss of calm abiding.
"Your next station stop is Reading;
Change for Heathrow, Slough and Gatwick."
Calmness, insight, selflessness.

May I merits now deriving
With all sentient beings share.
"Tickets ready for collection."
Slowing down, the train approaches
Journey's end at Brunel's station,
But the Mandala, unending
Changes to another vista,
Circle line, and Russell Square.