Breathe

Every Sunday morning
Buddha wakes us up
reposed just as he was
the night before
when sleep delivered our
tense and hurried minds
from the world

Every Sunday morning
he invites us as we stumble
sleepy-eyed, coffee in hand
to the serenity garden—
that leafy place tucked away
in a lush meadow of our minds
beyond a curve, upon a hill
impossible to get to most days
with all the detours and
distractions along the way

Every Sunday morning
we accept Buddha’s invitation
to listen to the stream
and sit upon the supple earth

We straighten our backs
and breathe
waiting for the singing bowl
to transport us
to that place of peace
where our knotted shoulders unfurl
and we release everything
we never needed to carry
in the first place

-Marie Marchand

Marie Marchand is the author of Pink Sunset Luminaries: Collected Poems. Her poems have won the Wyoming Writers Inc. Writing Contest and the Sue Boynton Poetry Contest. Her poem “Etty” received an Honorable Mention in the 2019 Allen Ginsberg Poetry Awards and is forthcoming in the Paterson Literary Review. mishiepoet.com

 

1 Comment

  1. My knotted shoulders are unfurling already.
    Love the imagery and peaceful flow of this poem!
    Thank you!

    Like

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