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.