Meditate on your Subject

Get in a comfortable position.

Close your eyes.

Observe your subject with your third eye.

Commit to the one thing.

I have held a cotton-tail tuft in the palm of my hand until it pulsed of the rabbit’s fear while it detached. The scurry it was attached to.

The white soft downy is my mantra.

Make your subject your mantra,

the boardwalk food at the beach

your grieving mother

the blood two blocks from the scene.

Chatter will distract.

Repeat past the chatter,

the white soft downy

the boardwalk food at the beach

your grieving mother

the blood two blocks from the scene.

Chatter will distract.

The boardwalk food at the beach,

“I need more research for the location.”

Your grieving mother,

“She didn’t make it to my one school play.”

The blood two blocks from the scene,

“The dirty CSI is underdeveloped.”

Quickly, accept the thought and allow it to float away as your mantra floats back in.

Float away, float in.

The subject is not you; it is not what you did or did not do. You cannot be both attached to yourself while searching for your subject at the same time.

Focus on your third eye.

Commit to the one thing

until you sense its true essence,

the slightness of fur too fluffy for protection,

your run could not outrun the predator.

Images replace thoughts.

All sensations arise.

Your observation is a surrendering.

The more you surrender, the more imagery floats in; with imagery there is sensation.

Sensation informs.

Pure sensation in the absence of thought is trust.

Now you can trust;

the flavors crunching with sand at the beach for your travel blog

the comforting letter to your abusive mother

the “all or lost” moment believable in your third act.

Your meditative observation allows for your subject’s own words to flow in and onto the page,

a line in my poem about a found rabbit’s tail,

“detached body parts as gift-giving talismans.”