Door: Just Sitting

Pain atop my left foot
And incessant yawning,
Every meditation is different
And this one certainly unique;

Half way through
The songs began
To play in my head,
And a whistle arose:

Further evidence that
Nobody’s in charge around here;
These events just happen
And to no one,

There being no indication
Of there being someone
For whom or to whom
These occurrences took place,

No sense of separation
Or even a concept of it,
Until the thought came,
‘What’s wrong with not trying to meditate?

‘Why not just sit
And be for a while?’
The answer,
‘Nothing is wrong;’

And so,
The session continued,
Until the time elapsed
And then, ‘I’ arose and stretched,

Pausing to write
Of this experience,
Before moving on
To some other activities.