Guided Meditation 1: Finding the Sky

by Rich Boucher

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I had a massage experience recently where I happened to witness people being yoga. From listening to them, I learned a great many things. And not just about my back or pelvic floor, but about the very idea of perception itself. It was very illuminating to be confronted with the notion that all this time I had been perceiving perception in so many biased ways. But now, I know everything. I wrote this poem after realizing that I had the power to change people's lives with just the sound of one loon.

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Guided Meditation 1: Finding the Sky







For the next fifteen minutes,
you are going to relax, and allow
the universe to flow through you.

In the way that a river
flows through running water.

Don’t think about that too hard;
enlightenment will come.

You might think
you are too small to contain,
even for one second,
all of the entire universe.
But in the next twenty minutes
you will learn how to become
the turtle that becomes the eagle
which used to be a grain of sand.

You will be a vessel,
a baked, sunblown artifact vessel
full to bursting with emptiness.

There is no now;
there is only this exact moment.

Take a deep breath in.
And another deep breath in.
Take several more deep, deep breaths.
Continue to do this
for the next thirty minutes.
At the end of the thirty minutes,
you may exhale.

While keeping your eyes closed,
visualize yourself at the beach,
lying on a towel in the late afternoon.

As you follow yourself
on the wings of your own mind,
there may come a time
when you think you hear
the sound of someone
rifling through your purse;
relax and take another deep breath;
that sound is merely a wind chime,
listen to it playfully playing
with a playful breeze.

There is no here;
there is only
where you are right now.

You may begin to feel
some strange sensations;
you must remember to relax
and let your body realize
that your mind is in control;
it might seem like I have blindfolded you,
and started to cut your hair
with a pair of really noisy scissors,
but that is only your fear
learning to speak for the first time.

No one is doing anything to you with a dog.

You are safe as always;
an angel inhabits you now;
you are the perfect,
naked version of yourself
bathed in twinkling stars
and standing in a meadow at night
and I am not taking pictures
of the fucked-up thing
that someone did to your hair.

When I count to three,
I want you to fold your arms
and cross your legs
and count to one thousand.

You may hear the office door open
while you are counting;
keep your eyes closed
and do not stop counting.








Copyright © 2011 by Rich Boucher.

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released February 14, 2011

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Rich Boucher Albuquerque, New Mexico

Rich Boucher is a performance poet whose poems have appeared in Adobe Walls: An Anthology of New Mexico Poetry, Fickle Muses, The Rag, The Malpais Review, Crack the Spine, Menagerie, Clutching at Straws, Shot Glass Journal, Mutant Root, Sparkbright, The Mas Tequila Review, Borderline, The Legendary and The Nervous Breakdown. ... more

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