Path through the wood with spirit house

Chithurst Monastery in the rain:



Rivulets carve the path down to the door
of the sussex barn structure which makes up the dharma hall.
Ritual removal of shoes, pick up a mat and enter the soft warm quiet.
Shush say the doors.
We sit, straight backed.
My coat rustles when I move, encouraging me to be still.
The gloom of the day casts shadows around the hall,
figures emerge as my eyes accustom.
Wondering if they are warm and real or cool and spectral.
Is there a sound of breathing? No. Motionless , featureless.
The Buddha is softly lit, rain adds percussion to the tune of the silence.