The Meditation Game
One day in the coming rush
you will see your mind
lofty like a dying star -
taking out insurance
then putting in false claims
We had argued in the afternoon
about how hard she works -
accepting a celebratory
Sunday lunch
without talking it through
Hours before, in the clear light
of morning, I had sat for long
meditation, felt a marvellous
opacity at my core -
a definite shift forward
Yet self assurance turned out
to be false, some hideous
childhood tantrum in full regalia
of righteousness, desperate
to leak. Maya, ever watchful
is the serpent we slide down
After years climbing Jacob’s
ladder one faulty step at a time.
Then Grace stepped in, filled with pity
for the poor, abandoned
child I once was
Revealing the vast pantheon
of gods I had
already passed until, humbled,
I made amends, returned to my seat
watched the mind’s continued death.
Copyright Simon Heathcote
