Cavalcade: Tracking

My meditation began
With, ‘Every breath is
My first breath,’
And powerful images arose,

Memories of stories of
The occasion of my birth,
When I took my first breath,
Imagine that!

Upon that I did reflect,
And then sadness emerged,
About all the breaths
I have missed.

There have been so many
Lost breaths
When I was not present,
Forgotten inhalations and exhalations.

But how sentimental
And how foolish,
Getting drawn into such reflections,
Only to miss out on now too!

I do it anyway, however,
All the time;
It’s such a habit,
To grab at it,

And the thing to do,
The action to take,
Is simply to notice
And investigate.

What intensity!
What strength!
How awesome,
How often such thoughts
Pull the mind off track.