where is it?

Your mind,
your legs?

Your arms,
your words,
your music?

Or maybe in your unique charms?
that shine in smiles you share in spades?

Your skill,
your intuition, logic?
Calm acceptance?
Force of will?

Your prayers, your meditation,
those you spoke or did just once
or the ones returned to again, again?

For reasons that could not be fathomed–
not even by your closest friends?

Or your might your strength somehow reside
in your
mindful, melting, merging with the moment,
or just your keeping of the watch
in way so distant past relax,
you’d have to call it zen?

Or your simple scanning, seeking practice,
in which you notice
all of this,
and then breathe in, breathe out
to find the extra noise,
and slowly welcome,
and/or clear it?

Or could your strength perhaps reside
in something more elusive yet?. . .

To know this, stop,
and let your heart beat on
if you still yourself enough,
as you turn in down inside of you,
to sort out the racket
of gurgles, growls and
spongy breathing lungs. . .
then maybe you will hear it–

could it be
in that true but sconced locality
more secret than
your unfelt or unseen
hair or hide?—

that ethereal,
universal part of you
we see mostly in the way you seem
and what you do,
which yields us
but a fraction of a clue,
and which, for the sake of simple elegance,
we call your very spirit?

This entry was posted in Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

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