POETICA
T h e L i v i n g r o o m F l o o r
I wanted something to resolve the pain of living for me
anything, a psychedelic, a spiritual retreat,
some shaman or guru or podcast
maybe another course or qualification
Something - anything - to allow me
To arrive, free from my anxiety and doubt.
I sat still; I got up early and committed to my cushion
I read and listened to the wise
Fingers all pointing
This way, this alternative, this direction
And quietly, softly, almost without noticing
A small candle flame flickered
Held tenderly cupped between shaking hands
Not daring to breathe it lost once again
Slow to realise that each breath witnessed
Stokes the flame brighter.
I wanted something to resolve the inevitable pain of existence,
And I found a love of the paradox of living
Wise in pain as a continual discipline,
Up early, checking myself, committing to my cushion
In every area
Refining my view, my relationship, to these contradictions.
I traveled the world, wanting and seeking,
And I found my life
Sitting on the livingroom floor.
cjG
