#mindfulness poetry

[imaginationstimulation]

Lost | by David Wagoner

from Traveling Light: Collected and New Poems

Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes behind you Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here, And you must treat it as a powerful stranger, Must ask permission to know it and be known. The forest breathes. Listen. It answers, I have made this place around you. If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here. No two trees are the same to the Raven. No two branches are the same to the Wren. If what a tree or a branch does is lost on you, You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows Where you are. You must let it find you.

[compassionmattersmost]

Poem: The Lightness of Letting Go

We chase the air and call it solid ground,A path to walk, yet never to be found.Enlightenment, it dances in the breeze,A dream we seek, but slips with gentle ease. Like floaters in the eye, it drifts away,Each time we think we’ve found it for a day.And angels laugh, for they can take to flight,By knowing not to hold their burden tight. The mind’s a joke, it tries to make its stand,While life…

[mftulin]

One Precious Cookie - Poem by Mark Tulin

A poem about mindfulness and a tribute to Thich Nhat Hanh. One Precious Cookie was first published by Vita Brevis.    One Precious Cookie by Mark Tulin Brother Thay hands me an oatmeal cookie and tells me to eat it slowly, savor each bite because it is more than just a cookie; it is a beautiful experience I’m about to undertake. He stops me before taking a hasty bite; implores me to look at…

[tamsoj]

Robert Bly, "Depression," from A Mind Apart: Poems of Melancholy, Madness, and Addiction

[thehopefulquotes]

I know what it’s like to be afraid of your own mind.

Dr Reid’s/ Criminal Minds

[zuzu-draws]

Just a pair of friendly sorcerers out on a stroll~

[nerdyenby]

Sorry, your boyfriend got reincarnated. Yeah, he doesn’t remember that time you murdered him with your bare hands. He doesn’t know how much you love him. He doesn’t know that you’ve killed for him. He doesn’t know that you’ve killed him. He doesn’t know it’ll happen again. As he takes your hand and your heart, and you laugh from atop an animal the two of you ride together, he doesn’t know you’ve been here before. He doesn’t know it’ll happen again.

[throughtheeyesofmeblog]

[markscherz]

There is a happiness no-one else knows: the feeling of mud between fully webbed toes; the caress of a breeze on your moist shiny skin; the warmth of the sunlight that slowly soaks in; the gentlest hum of a thought far away, as you sit and you soak and let time tick away.

[night-thief]

"Sometimes, I feel the past and the future pressing so hard on either side that there's no room for the present at all."

- Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited

[baby-girl-aaron-dessner]

Goodbye, August.

{Thomas Hardy, Far From the Madding Crowd/ Deborah Landau, "September"/ Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov/ Daphne du Maurier, The Parasites/ Sylvia Plath}

[rueyam]

lena khalaf tuffaha, ‚running orders‘

[tradingjack]

reading trimax like "oh ho ho boys to project my trauma on?? don't mind if i do :3"

[crazystonergirl]

ngl this is so me

[iambrillyant]

“your discernment will take you further than anyones opinions or ideas could ever take you. intuition has always been your compass.”

— iambrillyant

[sarahsinferno]

I Wish for Liberation

I sit in the dark, my thoughts a storm of fragments, and I wish, not with the innocence of a child but with the bitter clarity of experience, that you would feel the weight of every wound you gave.

do you know the sharp sting of betrayal, the cruel echo of a lie, the loneliness that wraps around the heart like a shroud?

I want you to know the hollow ache of waiting, the gnawing uncertainty that burrows deep, the sleepless nights stretched out in their endless, aching expanse.

I want the weight of your own choices to press down on you, heavy and relentless, until you understand the pressure that drove me to despair, until you feel a trace of my sorrow settling like dust in your own empty spaces.

you, who sculpted misery with your hands, who wielded cruelty like a blade, are you aware of the echoes you left? do you hear them whisper in your dreams, the ache you wove so effortlessly into my days?

i could wish for storms to ravage your calm, for the sky to crack open with lightning that rends the fabric of your peace, for the tremors of regret to shake your foundation.

yet, even as I wish this, I realize that suffering does not heal, that the flames of revenge only scorch the hands that wield them.

so, instead, I let the weight of my sorrow settle, a quiet confession to the universe that sometimes I crave for the scales to tip,

for the pain to be known, but mostly,

I wish for liberation, for the shackles of my anger to fall away, and for a heart that no longer clings to the shadows of the past.

so I let the wish drift, a bitter gust of wind that fades into the void, and I turn away, searching for a release from this desire, for a way to mend the broken pieces without adding more shards to the world’s already jagged heart.

S.T. 2024

santa rosalia by roberto ferri(1978) oil on canvas

the shepherd david by elizabeth bouguereau(1895)

dancers by franz von stuck(1896)

perseus slaying medusa by laurent-honore marqueste(1903)