Meditation at the Diner
It is loud here.
Music blares.
The people at the counter are boisterous.
The hood over the grill is running, a drone.
You breathe deeply.
One. Two. Three. In.
One. Two. Three. Out.
Repeat.
Repeat again
and again.
Slowly, your mind stills.
Slowly, the noise fades.
None of it matters.
You need this peace.
Your sanity lives there.
Your God lives here.
And if you can grow silent enough,
long enough,
you find
you live there.
About this poem
It has taken years, but meditation is an everyday thing, an any-time-I-need it thing.
And I need it often.
Tom
PS – yes, I am at my favorite diner as I write this. No, my diner does not have a Buddha statue in it. But the Thai Basil restaurant in Manchester, Vermont does. That’s where I took this picture. It looks like my friend Barry Parks.
