Morning Meditation

clouds stuck in my head

I pay money for a good app,

but I don’t use it as much as I should.

Rather, I find solace in the quiet moments,

watching the other buildings of my apartment complex

as the sun does his best to peek his light

above their roofs.

This is the alone time that I cherish,

when it feels like a choice and not a punishment.

That feeling doesn’t always last.

Stuck in my head too long, the world tries

to convince me that I am better off

without solace.

When I think things like that,

I try my best to come back to the light,

but it’s hard on mornings like these

when the sun’s gleam is swallowed by clouds

and the trees in the distance look spindly

and winter-dead.

Maybe if I write the clouds a thousand love letters,

they will part for me,

or maybe someone will give me the power to part them myself

in an attempt to set my emotions free–

emotions that have been trapped inside of me

for so long that they don’t remember

their home in my voice

or coursing through my body.

Once more I try to come back to the light,

but it is hard to see,

so I focus back on the clouds.

There is some sunrise color reflecting off them,

and I realize they don’t block the light,

they provide me with a different way

to see it.


Photo by Alesia Kozik from Pexels

Breathe In, Breathe Out

I place one foot in front of the other.

My heart beats rhythmically.
My hands rest delicately at my sides.
My feet are planted firmly on the ground.
Breathe in, breathe out.

The path under me is a beige concrete.
It extends infinitely in front of me.
Grass borders either side of it.
Breathe in, breathe out.

I place one foot in front of the other.
My legs lead me forward down my path, past neighbors’ houses.
I have no destination, only a desire for a journey.
Breathe in, breathe out.

I encounter very few people on my walk.
Most of the neighborhood is wisely under a semi-lock-down.
The people I do pass give me a wide berth, and I do the same to them.
Breathe in, breathe out.

The tulips and daffodils are about to bloom.
I can see their green tendrils poking through the dirt.
Spring will soon begin, but for now, I live in winter.
Breathe in, breathe out.

The rain from last night leaves puddles on the sidewalk.
I pay attention and make sure to step around them.
Those tulips and daffodils surely needed that rain.
Breathe in, breathe out.

My journey carries me home.
I am back at my warm apartment, on my comfortable couch.
The keys of my laptop click softly as I touch them.
Breathe in, breathe out.

The world is in chaos and I am too,
but I choose, in this moment,
to reflect on my path and to be at peace.
Breathe in, breathe out.

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