Hour Eighteen, Text Prompt

Focus

Silence is never silent,
as anyone new to meditation can attest.
When forced to center within,
to just be still, and listen,
each sound magnifies,
becomes central,
distorts the desired calm
and hijacks my mind.

The nasal whine of a buzzing mosquito
is suddenly a freight train,
air sucked through a furnace intake
is surf pounding on rocks to a drowner.

I try to focus,
pay attention to the moment,
but a guitar riff from a neighbor’s radio
and veeeewpewpewpew, I’m gone.

 

2 thoughts on “Hour Eighteen, Text Prompt

  1. I love this Tracy…It’s really resonating with me today after a fitful night’s sleep beside a neighbour with an air condition that doubles as a 747 jet propulsion system. Meditation becomes easier but sometimes, you just have to leave the room! You had me from the opening line..Silence is never silent. Beautiful images and topic!!! Note: The solution is in the release of the sounds… Great poem!

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