For some, meditating is a natural process, meaning they have a knack for quieting the mind and enjoying silence and serenity. For others, i.e. me, it is daunting and frustrating for reasons illustrated in this poem.
within my screen-in back porch—
a bright-billed Cardinal fed
her chirping and chirping juvenile chick
then zooming after her into a spruce,
cicadas grating through summer dusk.
Behind closed eyes I whispered Abba maranatha
barely breathing for His voice
when a jumping spider’s
two huge glistening black eyes
and toxic fangs stared at me—
I blinked into rippling canopy,
the moon pin-cushioned by pine needles,
the face of my deepest fear
seared in memory staring…staring…
“I rebuke you, Liar, in Abba’s Name.”
It begins fading into pitch.