Burning: Carrying On Some More

Still recovering from
My latest bout of ill fortune,
Back on the cushion I went.
But in my first session
I could only sit
And hold a pose,
And even this taxed me.

Today, I tried again
But I could barely stay vertical,
Pitted against wave after wave of
Fatigue and dread.
Rage arose unbidden afterwards,
Frustration seethed and foamed.

‘Why can’t I do better?’ I demanded.
I wanted to lie down,
But, ‘I’m determined to sit
And face the enemy,’ I declared.
‘But what enemy?’ I wondered,
‘And how can I bring
The power of the mind
To bear upon
These latest obstacles?’

And then I recalled the time,
Just recently,
When my back gave out again,
When in between my anguished cries,
The metta phrases arose,
Like the breaks between the waves
As they crash upon the shore.

I glimpse peace intermittently,
No matter what I’m clinging to,
The peace that’s always there;
And, although my awareness is repeatedly swamped
By the wind-tossed waves, always I remember,
And always I see again,
And so I carry on.