A personal soulstice
This morning
the first spring sunbeam
sliced between
the long barrow of buildings
to find me, meditating on my balcony.
I felt its warmth coming, bending
one photon at a time
around the chimney pots.
Sounds of frantic flapping
from the tree
alerted me to two pigeons
fucking, hopefully
having fun, not just slaves
to their DNA’s
drive for survival.
Yesterday’s solitary bee
seemingly dead on the sill
until resurrected
by honey water from my son
now gone, flown off, ungrateful
to its saviour.
Sounds from the street
as the binmen pass
still collecting rubbish
even in these lockdown days.
I sense my heartbeat, sixty-one bpm
one for each year of life, then
I enter my heart space
overflowing with love
for the birds and the bees
and the binmen.
I follow my breath, in, out
awareness and attention
up and down the spine, then
the second breath
not really mine, up, down
expanding, contracting
space and time
to squeeze out
some subtle energy
that flows in me.
I imagine an unbroken chain
of teachers stretching back
to where it all began
perhaps the Indus plain
perhaps to a man
seated under a tree
dreaming of awakening
dreaming a story
of oneness and immortality
that decisive queening
in the game of meaning.
And here I am, a pawn
right here, right now
just sitting, just
simply being happy
with the sun on my face
in dark days.
I am therefore I think
I am therefore I feel
I am therefore I love
I am therefore I choose
not to lose myself
in thoughts or fears
but to let these words
just play
just greet the day
with a homage in verse
to the warm, soft caress
of the Universe
in photons, feathers
gossamer wings
the magnanimous grace
of ordinary things.
Line by Line 