If I Meditate

If I Meditate

If I meditate on mercy
drag a patient carbon of myself
onto the set, and leave it there,
 I may think the coast is clear.
I may take off in an outrage of brass tacks
my attitude, a globe of vengence, circling
past the communion of love
into the ten fingers of bone
I may raise my hands like a bald elm
with a dozen stark, leafless stems,
my body uncoiling rage.
until I return to myself,
in the lone position, my mind flipping
through the pages for peace,
haggard with defiance.
My mind settling quietly
into the art of deep breathing,
with only a small hearbeat,
still throbbing,
in my throat.

Reviews

[Charles D. Moorer]

To spiral down into peace from rage is no mean feat. Nicely done a lesson for us all.

[Ed Hart]

the zen master, of course, would approve...in fact he's thinking of a little opening poem for his next book...as for yourself, you continue to instruct us all in the art of being human, and how to open windows...ed