Meditation

Sitting, meditating
on self-hallowed ground,
surrounded and succored
by the spirit of life.
It isn’t easy
to turn on the tide,
get tagged talk of the town,
the laughing stock,
the example for errant schoolboys:
don’t want to end up like him.
Yet no thing is easier.
Moving with the rhythm,
natural, buoyant.
Beat by beat,
sometimes a song appears.
It sings with me and the crickets,
the cicadas, the bees, birds,
and chittering creatures.
We dance a little jig,
breathing, breathing.
Inspiration, exhalation, exhilaration.
Bit by bit the sunshine
infuses with my cells.
I am opening. I am learning.
I am being made new.
All it takes is total dedication;
not a renouncing,
not a denying,
not what one would call a discipline,
just total awe and devotion
for every discrete exquisitely beautiful layer
each moment reveals.
.
.
.
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