I knew I was going to have to work hard,
but I'd had a good start, not realizing.
Eleven now, no one around seemed to know
there was far more than five, even six, senses.
Twelve, dug in deep and set off, gentile's bar mitzva
in hand & commitment to nothing less than the truth.
Learned electro-chemical language of breath first,
then to control it, imperceptibly slowing it.
Fifteen and brothers gone, six-hour meditations hung
me beyond space/time, but I had to know how
long the middle breath was. Clock-checked it,
forty-five minutes and hyperventilating still . . .
Sub-autonomic breath+ only brought in oxygen.
Had to slow it, too, or tingle head to foot.+
Learned a few years later some called it pranayama.+
No reading on or meditation teacher of, learned on my own.
--5/11/07
Autobiographical, poetic commentary emphasizing compassion,
ones search for truth &
that which cannot be found except from within…
Consider well the altruism found here (to the great chagrin of 'detractors').
©Copyright 2006-2022 by RK, Planetary Poet Laureate (of the end time)
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Departure

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