Galvanize: Metta Renewal

But then now
I return to metta,
But metta
Of a different sort

I intone:
"May I be free
From
Greed and distress towards the world."

And for a while
At least,
Am a diner at a feast
Of tranquility and equanimity

Every time I stray
From the thought for the day,
I bring my mind back
To these eleven words

These thirteen precious syllables
That quiet my thirst,
That burst the bloated bubble
Of the self-centered trouble

Not egolessness
But restraint,
Lacking the taint
Of the defiled world

No smell of rot,
No desperate clawing fingers
Scratching the bottom
Of the empty pot

The din of desires
is silent for a jot;
The difference is:  quite a lot!
And I continue to practice diligently
With it all day long