A Poetic Duet: While Sleep Is the Best Meditation, Writing Is the Best Medication

My students have to take turns writing in a class journal. Below is the first poem I have encountered in amazement:

“Sleep is the Best Meditation” — Dalai Lama

The morning

Was cold and raining

I sat down

And started sleeping

Suddenly

The teacher was talking

Then I saw

What I was dreading

On my desk

Rested my exam score of Mandarin

I could feel

My eyes started flooding

I could hear

My pride shattering

I felt like

My energy is draining

So again

I started sleeping

I woke up and found out

The podium has been occupied by another teacher

He wrote in an indecipherable language

But everyone else knew the answer

I tried to decode the symbols

But it turned out to be a failure

However, I was not surprised

Since it has been this way since September

Then we had a class about the stars and galaxies

And constellations created by linking stars with each other

Soon the beauty of the stars hypnotized me

And I lost conscious before the teacher finished the chapter


The following class we trained

For becoming a mighty carpenter

To free the beauty within the piece of wood

We had to think beyond the border

Time fled quickly as my stomach protested

So I fed it well in order to ease its anger

Ten minutes past noon I attended a meeting

That was held at a table in a remote chamber

Then the three of us left halfway through

And ran to participate in the practice of school choir

I got back and prepared for the afternoon

Only to discover I’m extremely tired

So again I slept with the teachers’ voices echoing

And this time I lost control and slept a little longer


The day is almost over

And I’m finally awake

I took the last two classes

And didn’t sleep for God’s sake

Though I may have trouble in learning

But at last my life’s not at stake

I can still sleep like a Snorlax

In every single day!


In excitement I replied to him with the following poem:

Writing Is the Best Medication

Yesterday so surprised was I

At your questions going wild

Thinking beyond the box’s right

With your eyes gleaming and bright


This morning at office I arrived

Missing your class journal to read

Anticipating what you’d write

“DITTO” I can’t help but out cry


Poetry I like

Not seek and hide

But minds alike

Feel alongside


At noon SC meeting took place

Three classes in a row like a race

Without food to digest I prayed

That I could make it through with grace


At last in the dark of the night

All the hustle and bustle subside

Listening to the wounded pride

Writing to you I abide by


Your words as a gift I received

With all my heart and soul I see

The best meditation is sleep

The best medication is dreams.

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