Meditations Poems | Examples

MEDITATIONS ON MEDITATION

MEDITATIONS ON MEDITATION
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I sit, spine aligned with the spine of the earth,
breath flowing like an endless river,
each inhale a promise,
each exhale a letting go.

Mind becomes an empty sky,
clouds of distraction float by—
I watch them, not clinging, just witnessing,
watching the sun of awareness rising. 

Time bends,
the clock dissolves into the ether,
and in this space,
I am both lost and found.

In the soft embrace of stillness,
I taste the sweetness of presence,
the clarity of the moment,
wrapped in the silence of the now.

Meditation, a bridge to the infinite,
where my mind learns to rest,
and my spirit unfurls,
finding solace in the spaces between.

I continue breathing, a simple act,
yet profound as the stars,
reminding me that stillness
is not absence, but the fullness of being.
 
I return again and again
to this sanctuary carved from silence
where thoughts dissolve
and the soul awakens ever present, ever now.

Pancake Meditations

"Will I grow to be much fatter?"
I wondered as I stirred the batter,
"and, if I do, what would it matter?",
as the pancakes, they grew flatter.

Morning Meditations

faithful as always  -
my old body waits for me
to wake up.

first light -
through an open window
the sound of trembling leaves.

early morning -
already the edges of the day
are beyond reach.

sunlit room -
my dreams have left
another layer of dust.

in the window -
morning trying to find focus
through my own reflection.

new day -
once again I leave a little more 
of myself behind.

Daily Daft Ditties 3 - Slug Meditations

Once, shell-less snails filled me with terror.
That childish outlook was my error.
Now, I laugh it off with a shrug.
It's just another slug.

***

If rock-paper-scissors was a game,
played with creatures whose only aim
was to eat,

when confronted by a duck, new to town,
any slug with pluck, would soon go down
in defeat.

Planting a Seed

("Heaven and Earth", 2024, original encaustic)

Planting a Seed

Sitting quietly
I find a seed within my heart
and entering into it plant something 
unnamable which was there all along
but unplanted.

The seed grows into a tree
which expands, arms out
to feed a sky it creates
which in turn welcomes and holds 
it in soft embrace.

Earth and sky thus joined
complete a circle 
conceived in light
but experienced as all the stuff 
of dreams made flesh and fiber.

(2/15/24)

Meditations Beneath Westgate Bridge

Neck bent back,
looking up from beneath
Westgate Bridge,
its sheer height overwhelms
with its wide stretch hung
in the heavens, tyres printing out 
a constant hum across 
its concrete span.

The mind reaches up in wonder
to grasp how such weight holds
firm in air, why it doesn't sag
or snap under the strain.
The bridge seems too monumental 
to fail, it floats on the near
divine, born of the mathematical 
certainties calculated
by the human mind.

And yet thirty five human souls
rode a span downwards
crashing to earth when the bridge
was being built, 
their faces disappearing 
in a mist of numbers, their lives
printed in river silt. High above,
people now ride its wonder 
every day on their way to work.

Hebrew Poetry

A Maskil by Anil
Themes that span every emotion
Schemes and plans of enemies
No rhyme but every reason
To thank Creator God for victories

Lord Thy Love bathed us for generations
Lord Thou, ever faithful, so merciful
Lord, without Thee, hate and humiliations
Would be our cup. Worship God Eternal
(Selah! A musical term, or pause)
We praise Him dawn & dusk, First Cause

Hope's Joy

Hope’s Joy

A beautiful, 
sound of silence,
awakens me at dawn.

Purged from yesterday’s ills,
my soul prepares for a new
and pristine day…

Meditations of An Offensive Lineman

MEDITATIONS OF AN 
OFFENSIVE LINEMAN

I am the essence 
of patience and method
No reckless trash talk; I never
say a word
I am John Henry, harder,
A hammer on your bones driving
spikes through your soul and
your disintegrating self esteem

We have a chunky young
tailback who dances through
turbulence like light through the
trees in a storm borne by wind
When he runs with me,
you’re never there

Elevating your game is just wasting
your time
I am the tiger in the grass by the river
of your demise
Too late you comprehend the aesthetics
of my violence, the pattern of my stripes,
the curve of my teeth, the savage nuance 
of my mayhem
Go ahead, fight me if you must
but my arrival is always fatal

Meditations of the Damned

You run like hell just to wear
	yourself out
Keep up while falling flat
Tired, constantly tired, never
	enough sleep in a day
Shut your brain down, liquefy
	your thoughts, keep your
	mouth shut while keeping
	it open

Your run like hell in circles
	around the room
Keeping up while spinning down
Tired, constantly tired, never
	enough time in a day
Shut your system down, liquefy
	your life, keep your
	brain dead while keeping
	it alive

Your run like hell, pretending to
	be alive
Keeping up with others falling down
Tired, constantly tired, never a
	new moment in the day
Shut down your life, shut
	down your soul, keep
	your eyes open while
	hoping to keep them shut

Meditations On the Shore - Haiku

eyes reflect owls depth
wet sleep closes in on night
sands shimmer, age calms

Meditations a Tribute

waiting to retreat
enduring
   then turning courage
in a
   moment
     of change
to bravery

no longer deceived
truth
    replaces remorse
rooted
& blessed
        by reason
riding the tide
across
the evening
            into night

grief prevented
innocence deserted
the positive
           rejoices
&bids farewell
estranged&
              changed
survives
         the revolt

uneasy sleeps
the lonely
loud
    the sounds
of feelings
of alarm
in
default of loving
                    care
in the pursuit
of
pleasure

in the mirror
notice&belief
&discipline
quiet
elements
     with gestures
of praise
to admire&observe
in wonder

designed to shield
&display
authority
    in the temporal
&imbibe
      the possible
secrete
     the lovely
float
   the concrete
into the valley
                of self

to escape the threat
which beckons
in the
     voice of passion
to invoke
      lapsed glory
&its reward

dogma speaks aloud
concern
      listens
contrives
         to open
the seige ahead
with
a
tale
of joy

Minimal Meditations of Satie

exemplar
      and avatar
idiosyncretique
avant garde
eccentric-
minimal meditations
between still points

Meditations

Ocean blues of a sweet saxophone,
golden horns of stars,
everything simply gleams with eternity,
a few lines of a drawing and you have soul.

Stone is divine,
present,paradigm shift
the past in the abstract now;
oil lamps and roses
carpets woven like deserts.
Unfurled prophecy,
cadence like a forest,
creation is born.
Promises of tomorrow tuned,
music is truly spiritual.
Moods, moons, rings,
praise,the Glory to come
Meditations, raised


Cheryl Koomoa 
© 2016 Cheryl Koomoa (All rights reserved)

Meditations In the Meadow

Meditations in the Meadow

Red rock mesas, 
Majestic jagged crowns, 
Crystal ice castles --
Absence of sound.

Bracing breezes, crimson cheeks,
Silver teardrops, frosty breath,
Crackling fires, warm gloves --
Standing on sacred ground.

Intriguing fragrances swirl,
Mesmerizing a puppy’s essence,
Gleaming nose inhaling deep
Guardian angels abound.

Iridescent fairy whispers, 
Quixotic elven promises,
Soft butterfly kisses;
Spinning me around.

Departure imminent,
Memories essential,
Connections eternal;
Discernment found.

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