Here’s a short meditation for those moments when you simply want to take 10mins out of your busy day – or rather to add 10 minutes of calm into your day! No need for props or the perfect space to do this in, simply click and listen and enjoy!
Why Poetry?
Why poetry, you ask? Why breathe, I respond. To capture inner changes I barely perceive. To explore the flavour of spaces between my words. To jump off bridges into adjective and adverb — gladly, potently. To open my heart — then write myself forward onto open page. To elaborate when doldrummed — investigate doll drummed into me, exquisite wonder fashioned out of me as I declare I am lost. Here I am found with pen tip caresses — the swirl and curl of my unfurling mind. I flow onto paper cupped in its splayed hands.
An offering for our current times.
Cancer Prepared Us For This We already have the callouses From dropping to our knees in shock From dragging ourselves through treatment From nightly prayers that death won’t take us. We know the fear, the dread, the tears. We know the denial, the trials of those years. We know the place of solitude Where no-one can reach in, Nor us reach back to normal. And here we are. Collectively shocked. Community-robbed, except… except… This is global. It is local, It is family of billions and of two. It is a different isolation. Corona gathers us together for the first time ever. Yet physically we are parted. Alone. But we feel. We feel our heart. We feel each other. We feel in the quiet a strange, supernatural becoming But is it real? Is it fanciful imagining borne of scavenging for sense? Or is it a deeper knowing that this time was coming The Second Coming was for all of us to rise to. No individual saviour. No guru on the pathway. The next guru is the Sangha - from the wise. Cancer broke us of our blindness. It brought horror and a kindness That now we show the world on their own knees. Help one up. Smooth their face, Hold them close in an embrace That reminds them they were born for this time. To transform the destruction The ego-driven grasping For trinkets that can’t ever satisfy. We are frightened. We surrender. To the impossible horror Of simply not knowing our fate. Death comes knocking For me? For you? Which is the worst of the two? And when it doesn’t. Not just yet. There is still the winning bet… We will all die of something someday. Let’s live now Enjoy the Monday That changed face overnight to any day you choose between moonlight when the muse Returns to haunt our dreams of what’s to come.
I am working on completing a selection of audio offerings. As they are recorded and uploaded, come back here and you will find poetry and readings, meditations and contemplations. Restful and mindful food for the soul.
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