Carry on: Observing Bats

The bats flap about
Inside my mind,
Agitated, unsettled,
Seeking my blood.

I sit amidst the chaos,
The acrid smell of guano
Fills the air,
And I wrinkle my nose.

But I will not deny them,
Nor will I flee
From the beating wings,
Or the high-pitched cries.

I hold my posture
And look straight ahead,
Peering through
The multitudinous throng.

Patiently, gently, compassionately,
I watch and wait,
For the fluttering
To decrease,

With no expectation
That it will cease,
But only that
My equanimity will increase,

And that resting with
The turmoil,
I will learn to
Befriend the host.

For only from inside,
From the centre
Of the swarm,
Can I find peace.

Carriage: Sitting with Pain

A peaceful interlude,
During which to work on sitting well.
My practice revolved around posture
And how to balance that with pain.

I had gotten caught on fiddling
To see if I could reduce it,
But this wedged me into it further,
And yet I did not want to ignore it.

How can I reconcile these two:
Not to make the pain worse
Or increase my discomfort
But not to obsess on it either?

For when I focused on comfortable posture
I got caught on pain,
Then couldn’t get off it,
And this discouraged me from sitting.

Today I had an idea:
To neither deny my condition
Nor give in to it
Or get stuck on it.

I sat and repeated my resolve
And set about getting settled,
Then I thought it again
And began my sitting.

Keeping my mind on holding my pose
I reiterated my intention,
And found that this invention
Helped me achieve my goal.

My attention fixed on posture
Tackled the pain in two ways:
One by maintaining a good position
And the other by concentration.

Cargo: Baggage Handling

Caught on rage,
Mind goes spinning,
But at least
I noticed it today.
For yesterday,
When some bad news
Tripped this bout of ire,
I overlooked the cues
And behaved foolishly.

This pm, I got high on concentration,
And then saw what that was for:
It covered over a bonfire so large
That when I peeked beneath the carpet,
I was pulled under and into the flames.

All the fires are lit again today,
They burn so hotly
They block out the sun.
No friendliness here,
But only aversion
To perceived threats.

Tension and hate:
No charity resides
In this precinct;
No kindness, no wisdom neither
Penetrates this inferno
Of loathing and disgust;
Common sense goes bust
In the face of this vengeful lust,
This vindictive pattern.

But this is where wisdom comes in:
I can see the pattern,
And that’s the beginning
Of it’s end.
If calmly, I can meet this blaze
I can defeat it, again and again,
Until it’s gone for good.