Friday, August 19, 2011



Meditation was a taxing chore,
so-called sage counsel for self-healing.
I never knew there were so many rocks
in my couch cushion, so many scratchy tags
in my shirts. I carried a pout on the inside
of my face
and NO in my heart.

And one day,
and one day I forgot
to pack my heavy anger,
and I floated over time,
breathed deeply and heard the sun
sing in my veins, carrying joy
to my fingertips,
and YES into my soul.


Janet said...

I would love to experience meditation in this way :-)

Maria said...

This is why I am so good at meditation and Bing sucks at it. She claims that she gets distracted by the sound of her own breathing, by the way her shoes aren't fitting properly, etc.

London Accountant said...

You take us on a really epic yet down-to-earth journey of the mind here, deftly done. The details make this poem, being aware of your clothes tags etc is... but the little details also make it a nice contrast when you transcend them and float over time!

Cheoy Lee said...

I love the joy of that capitalised YES! At the end. Brought a genuine smile to my face.

Madeleine Begun Kane said...

Lovely verse.

You've been very quiet lately. Hope you're okay!

sister AE said...

Thanks, Madeleine. I'm well; it's just that I've been neglecting my muse.

Madeleine Begun Kane said...

Congratulations on winning Limerick of the Week in last week's Limerick-Off. Great job! Limerick of the Week 67