My dog is like Zen monk…
He ain’t no stray he ain’t no punk…
If you took him to the zoo a chetta’d get jumped…
And although he isn’t much of a preacher, he’s an old soul, a wise teacher…
So I walk with him on the beach; this is where he loves to learn and loves to teach…
He explains the details of focused intention; through smell and sound and simple expression…
He climbs boat docks and under gates with rusted locks, and for two hours he could smell a single rock…
This demonstrates the Smell Of Zen, the power of his nose; one thousand times ten…
And this baffles the mind of common men…
They cannon yet see, or smell for that matter, they think of me as a mad hatter…
Because I study and speak with dogs and cats, palm trees, orchids and subway rats…
All are here to teach and reflect, find yourself in a drop of water or tinny speck…
Like my dog smelling a lamp post, where other canines like to boast…
Enjoy the simple and subtile and be free of long and distant struggles…
My Dog is a Zen Monk…
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