Poetry is Meditation

 

 

Meditate a while
With me.
You will feel
The power,
The strength, of
Succinct words;
And the rhythm
The effortlessness
Of these lines.

There is no need (for speed)
To rhyme
As you go.
Just flow –
With the tenuous
Thread of a theme,
Smelling the time
The moment;
In the raindrops of the words
As they fall
Onto white
Parched soil.

Like water
We are drenched in beauty
Grasping onto the lines
In each a myriad of worlds
And dimensions
Of mind.

Turning here
I see you
Watching me
Perplexed
As I In ecstasy
Laugh at these
Paltry poems
And smile

Because I know the purpose
Without understanding it.

I am entranced by the sound
Of the silence it creates
Between the phrases,
The pauses that are more deep
Than the sentiment they hang upon.

Precipices of Death.
We are so close
And yet return again

For another glimpse
Of the infinite
Tragedy,
Glory and
Comedy,
Of our lives
.

 
     

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