Meditation

Cold shadow edges are pushed aside when this winter’s sun sees the chair I sit in.

My face up to it, eyes closed, waiting for them to gather.

From its tree a first thought climbs its way down.

I’ve promised to listen, part of the deal...

I long to be there...

Where colour can’t exist,

Sounds have no words.

Where nothingness becomes a state of mind.

All thoughts have come and gone

Only bamboo leaves rustle in a cool breeze

The sunshine coats the soul

Welcome to the Destination of Thoughtless Paradise-

to the garden of empty; to a pure freedom... from everything.