After a two month or two year
Discontinuity but also marking
The return (in the form of a song
from long ago reheard just now)
Of a longer wave cycle
So I found myself sitting
In a parked car once again
Given over to deep repose
No discernible forward progress
Having been made yet
Only this intermittent sitting
And doing nothing
Not merely idle but
Powered down like
The engine itself
As if I had already
Been meditating
For an eternity or two
On the blueness of
The bluest of mats
**********************************
I've noticed lately how the habit of meditating can be contagious, inasmuch as the meditating frame of mind spreads and begins to assert itself even when you're not formally engaged in meditation. This poem is about precisely such a moment of contagion that happened earlier today. If you find this poem interesting you might also like to read this prior poem, which at least partially explains what I was thinking about when I wrote the first few lines of the poem above.
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