Meditation

When it comes to
Meditation,
I’m a Neophyte of
the rankest order.

My half-lotus
is both legs
on an ottoman,
leaned back
on the couch,
covered with
my comfy comforter.

This morning
my head was a
spinning
Black Hole,

whirling thoughts
of a Life
only half-lived,
all that early promise
dwindled away in a
spiraling downdraft of
lifelong Laziness and
creeping age.

Then a Messenger appeared,
as a Thought.

“Perish the Thought,”
“Just let it go.”
Or so I’d been told.

But this Thought
carried a Torch,
a Light Beam:

“Wait!”
It said,
grinning from
ear-to-ear.

“Yes, let Us go,
but before You do,
please hold Us
for a moment,
pull Us close,
especially
The Worst of Us.
Look Us in the eyes.

Give Us a hug.
Then let Us go.”

(Photo by Ulrich Derboven; UnSplash)