Meld

 

This morning I woke
To the joy of Spring,
Threw wide the window
To share the awakening,

Showered and put on
Fresh clean clothes,
And breakfasted
On nuts and berries.

 

Then I walked to the Corrib,
Alert to the city sounds,
The birds chirping,
The grass growing

And the trees budding;
And a few fluffy white clouds
Up in the sky,
And a jet plume high above.

 

I hired a boat
And rowed out over the lake,
Bending forward as I dipped the oars,
And stretching back with the pull,

Experiencing the joy
Of muscles working.

I docked beside a grove of trees
And strode to the top of a hillock

In a clearing,
Where I laid out my yoga mat,
Stripped all my clothes,
Folded them neatly,

And laid them out
On one end of the mat.
Then I sat in the lotus posture
With, thumb to index finger,

My hands resting
On my knees.

Straight-backed,
I observed my breath

Going in and out;
Slowly in and pausing
And slowly going out,

And the earth breathing with me

My body wrapped in air,
My long white beard
Spread over my chest,
Mind and body as one.

 

And I raised up my awareness
To the sky, to the universe,
One with Om,
With Ogh agh um, with all.

 

And, in this awareness,
I evaporated
Into the ether,
Into the universe.

 

And now I float in the air
Over lakes and seas,
Over mountains and cities
And vast grassy plains,

And waste land and forests,
And out through the stars
To far distant planets
And wide open space,

 

And into town and town-lands,
And into companies

And homes,
And into people’s dreams.

 

By and by the boatman
Will miss one boat,
And send out across the lake
And find my boat and,

Looking further,
Find my clothes
Sitting on my yoga mat,
And say:

 

He has disappeared
Into Thin Air.