Thursday, October 18, 2012

Meditation at Speed

Passing the baskets of houses
Of the subdivisions in the hollow
Showing only their roofs,
Chimneys and shade tree crowns
Nestled beside the highway,
Midday of the fall, spinning
The stuff inside them of generations

Of builders and fillers who will covet
Homes among the tree-arched lanes
Now speckled with saplings tied to dirt,
I feel there is peace in the valley
For me somehow today, but I'm not
Capable of using this busy vault
Of heaven for prayer

Or proper meditation. What I need
Within this mass of moving parts
Is poetry devised on the fly
While driving with one eye
On the moon--what solemnly robed
Monks with perfect posture
And quiet minds can't teach you.

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