Written this morning for NaPoWriMo.



Morning spills a trapezoid
of sunlight on the floor.
I align my cushion within
the gold geometry
and face the sun.

Each day in spring the angle
grows less oblique,
a difference invisible
to the human eye
except when measured in seasons.

The sun in its traveling arc
teaches me to trust
in subtle change.



A poem a day for April


4 thoughts on “Meditation

  1. I love the sense of trust in seasons (of nature and life) expressed in this poem. Seasons have always spoken to me-the sense that whether its a good time or a bad time-its going to change and I need to relax and go with the seasons.

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