Sunday Morning Atmospherics
(Below, an existential description of my state of mind - an attempt at poetic art. A failed meditation session is not always a failure, if one is aware of it. Whenever my mind travels back into my unpleasant past, whenever I lose the present moment, equilibrium escapes me. Sometimes that is the lesson for the day.)
Darkened room slowly lightening.
Another gray dawn.
I stumble into a favorite chair,
clinging to a vapor of leftover dreams.
Night dreams turn to day dreams,
turning into memories:
Ancient angers, lost loves,
missed opportunities.
It’s the weather. Three days of rain,
flooding, hail, wind.
Autumn rushes back in force
losing no time.
I breathe, knowing I cannot focus.
Don’t fight, acknowledge,
this is today’s practice.
Tomorrow, the sun.