sometimesihatemycat

How close can I get to me
When is my breath all that I see
Cold reflection crisp with lines
The space around me fills in time

When face to face at last I sit
And leaning toward my nose’s tip
Contact is made with mirror’s edge
Nothing sure but fog of breath

Leaning back some steam remains
Stories about me enter frame
Tactile trust intimacy
How close I get is up to me

— April Resnick

~ by April on January 8, 2014.

Posted in Body, Humanity, Identity, Meditation, Poetry
Tags: Anatta, Anicca, Attention, Breath, Buddhism, Jhana, meditation, Metaphor, No-self, Samadhi, Sati, Self