Poem: The Meditation Bell

(Over Land)

the drone

draws

me

down,

down

into

myself

so I can

open my eyes

to the dance of vibrating

particles smoothly moving

and carrying all before them

in singing surges, waves made

by the churning of the up and down

current swirling into banks of clarity

where lizards can live eternities in sweet

brittlebush horizons, blinking and scurrying before

the smell of clean sand scouring away time that built

a million forevers; to sit chanting to and wonder how great

the picture I’ve been daubed on, leaving the mark of the organism

in the debris trailing behind like a comet’s tail sizzling and burning

brightly—

it is here,

in this moment,

the only moment,

that I can see

the eye of

God,

the dance, so fierce and buoyant, play on, play on

sitting cross-legged, singing Hosannas

in the desert sun.