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My Meditation
The sun feels really good.
There's rainbows in the eyelids,
and happy voices in the vicinity.
The neighbor engines hum.
Taking time to relax,
cross legged on a soft blanket,
thinking rare thoughts.
Families find freedom.
The birds are so dainty,
chirping,
enjoying the calm garden.
Sweet children chanting.
Dogs bark too much.
Jet streaks in the sky disappearing.
My meditation is ending.
The secret of stillness.
So much choreographed
So much choreographed movement in this poem, and then a sudden braking in the last two lines: this reminds me of the Overture of Mozart's opera, The Magic Flute---which accelerates, in the last few bars, into a flurry of sixteenth notes, until the brake is applied with three triumphant chords in E-flat major. That you can do, in words, what he did, in notes, is a testament to your artistry.
Starward