Deep Autumn Pond

author’s note:

Meditation isn’t an escape; it's a return.


DEEP AUTUMN POND

Years ago
while lolling in the afternoon sun
angling down through the leaves
I suddenly felt so quiet—

I was a still pond.

But only for a moment.
Soon, a falling leaf rippled my waters
and I rose to my feet.

In the years since then
I’ve tried many times
to return to that perfect moment.

And indeed—
if I delve down deep enough
sometimes the eye of the sun
will float up from the muck
at the bottom of this old pond.

And then I can see in the dark.

For a moment, at least.

Until another falling leaf
ripples the surface
and tells me:
time to rise to your feet.

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