My Meditation: A Poem

Deep I drift away from my everyday story's myth

sinking into realm for which words don't exist

at first feeling heavy like a fleshy monolith

then lighter than feather or morning mist.

All sense of myself familiar so well

dispersing like a cloud unblocking sun

with emergence of something hard to tell

but recognized again like an old show's rerun.

Feeling a sort like homecoming after trip

heart-felt nostalgia for something gone

unutterable liberation from ego's grip

something so unique for me alone.

It's so futile trying to share that intimate state

and these words are clumsy way of such try

but I want to tell you about something great

outlandishly divine if like that pie in the sky.

Called "pure consciousness", and I agree

like a body-less state, almost ghostly by feel

so much more godly than an ego could ever be

but without need to close palms, or need to kneel.