Colere
Again I sit. Breathing deeply.
The spaciousness within each atom
mirrors the topography of mind.
Thoughts dance like patterns
of rainbow color,
bold against the greater silence;
another breath, and
the pattern opens up;
another breath, and the pattern
becomes translucent.
Like ants, the thinking pattern
refuses to be stopped.
Like an ant, each thought
seems busy and vulnerable.
They cover the contours of my mind,
yet they cannot conceal
the Presence shining through.
What about this Presence?
What jewel may I discover today,
while in your sacred landscape?
You call me, and yet now you hide.
I look for you, and I find the silence.
Earthy, womblike silence —
I sense that a seed
has been planted here.
A wild thing shall grow,
vast, untamed, powerful.
Here a wild thing shall grow,
and it is called my soul.
September 1996
Carl….I do hope I will get on your list….Grace@gmail.com and/ or pxreid@gmail.com
June 27, 2008 at 2:18 pm
I’ll send you an invitation, but to join yourself, all you have to do is send an email to mccolman-subscribe@yahoogroups.com.
June 27, 2008 at 2:40 pm
Lovely poem. Seems to be taking place within meditation. thank you.
October 6, 2008 at 10:33 pm