A sound emerging from nothing – polished glass
Sitting in meditation, the cry of a curlew.
The slumped back straightens.
The heart no longer needing to overreach
Sound dies away
Another moment passes – bring the mind back.
I found a poem I wrote whilst on retreat at Throssel ages ago wrote Nigel in an email. The poem speaks to my own experience and probably a number of others who have sat in the meditation hall at Throssel. Many thanks Nigel.