A SIT

You sit down on the brown couch, bring
in the day as a mosaic of sound.
You write a poem and drink strong coffee,
notice your breath and the mind’s
subtle sway.

The feel of this moment, embodied and clear,
nothing to finish now,
no one to fear.

There’s a sense of yourself, composed
and composing, rich with time’s gift,
free from supposing.
An ephemeral flowing,
a river so blue, this easy sense
of full presence,
which cleanses and cools.