Mindfulness

Mindfulness Mindfulness is being in the moment, with the past A dim memorial and the future ripe anticipation; Without investment of self in uncertainty and “when I…”, Just living life in the now. I read the book of recipes and am drawn Into its world of pungency, lost in imagined tastes; And I linger at this altar of sensual delight, And am mindful. A glass of Riesling sits close by, cold, crisp, With subtle oiliness hinting at future promise; Its acidity bites at my tongue as I imagine Lemons in Greece might do. Fragrant prose makes my nose twitch, as though some Herb, roughly chopped to embrace the warmth of spice, Is thrown into the bubbling pot to lure the hungry, And I think of you. The spell of the moment is broken by your Presence, uninvited and unwanted but irresistible, An imagining, without form, that brings emptiness, longing, The elements of grief. Why do you do this, Madame, why do you Not leave me to be at peace with my present? Why do you intrude, when you have been silent This long while? I want to be with you, or rid of you; There is no compromise, I cannot be an acquaintance; There is no possibility of a hint of love, like A hint of chilli. I imagine inside your mind, where I have no Place, no presence; I am forgotten, like a withered Posy, whose scent is as dust and adds nothing To our pleasure. And I live in this moment, dissolved in My emotions, swept up in thinking, and wonder When it will end and you no longer disturb My present. The ascetic monk reminds me of the impermanence Of all things, and the unhealthy possession you have Of my thoughts and feelings, putting my happiness at your command. Miserere mei: soaring notes wash my mind clean, no Thoughts or emotions can find space in this reverberant Cathedral of penitence; transient music that lives forever, Unlike that pure treble. I am again mindful and you slip behind the Curtain of music, an actor quitting the stage, Your speech done, the plot carried forward To its end.