My friend the meditation instructor
Tells me to just let go
So I just drop the stuff I was holding:
The four corners of the sky
The moon and stars
The sun and all those other spinning satellites
Then because I’m just learning how to let go
I drop . . .as well
Just label it thinking, I think
looking for more things to let go of
the barrista with the dragon tattoo
vanilla lattes
an untuned piano
Watch them fall down
down
down
my breathing
the only sound
And then finally because it’s the only thing left
to hold on to
I drop my self
and wonder for a moment
if there’s no one there to watch me fall
am I really falling?
Sunday night reading
feel the dusk
as it drifts into
the room creeps
onto the stage
to cling
to poets’
hands
voices
half-moon eyes
as they gaze
at empty chairs
an emptier cafe
the dusk sighs
as they prepare
reluctantly
for the
set-the-alarm
madness of Monday
but not before
turning one last time
to that moment
where words
resonate
though
the room
***
Terrie Leigh Relf
