Journal Poem, September 3, 2017

The Meditation Group

 

Eight of us sit, a small group in the heat.
We practice cooling breaths, sip ice water
before silence begins, before a rotating fan reaches
skin. That vast field of the mind stretches at warp speed
through oak after oak, and overheated birds begin
to sing, joining a chant to protect the planet
and bring the forest back to life.

 

Gudrun Mouw (c)

One Comment

  1. Cathy said:

    Oh…
    I want to respond
    and I want to savor this

    thank you!

    September 6, 2017
    Reply

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