June 8, 2017

Zen for Breakfast. {Poem}


Morning declares itself with a triumphant blinding glare
That fills my room and declares
“Rise fool, I wait for no one!”

I struggle to untangle myself from the cocoon of blankets
That threaten to submerge me.
Then, with three deep breaths
Lift myself
And stumble upwards
Being careful not to fall
And loosely remake, what will later today,
Envelop me with solace.

Blurred eyes are washed with cold water drawn from an icy depth
To reveal a man I hardly recognize.
The years,
Though kind, or kindly at least,
Disguise the man that lives within this vessel of flesh, and blood, and bone—
But cannot hide
The man that, after a pause,
With closed eyes—then open
The Looker sees.

The Light revealed
Is younger now than yesterday.
Tomorrow, younger still—
Though the form that holds it moves faithlessly forward.

The kettle’s scream, silenced long ago to a whimper,
Announces the progression of space and time,
A clock of sorts
That tracks the morning
That becomes the rich black syrup that warms and awakens
And prepares me for the day

I sit and wonder
Elated and somber
What infinite wisdom could make me so
The timeless Light that lives within—
The suit of flesh that changes
And the coffee that fuels those thoughts…

Consumed by both
Reminds me

They are One.


Author: J.M. Greff
Image: Flickr
Editor: Lieselle Davidson

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