Category Archives: meditation

Sitting With Nature – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: Hakea trifurcata found along Lesmurdie Brook, if you’re not taking time and looking you will miss it.

“There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature ….” Rachel Carson

Sitting With Nature

To sit
is to still, to see, to be
settled in connection
with all that is present,
feeling the space before you
as you reach out and touch
with all your senses wide open.

To sit
is to still, to see, to be
accepted in this moment
by all that desires to be
present to to you in your
quiet acceptance of the
generosity of this shared space 

To sit
is to still, to see, to
become part of all that is,
and return to your centre,
slowing down and listening in 
to the rhythms of life, that you 
might know yourself for the first time.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Dispelled – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo by Christopher Campbell on Unsplash



“Freedom from desire leads to inner peace.” Lao Tzu

Dispelled 

Cog toothed maniacal, steel eyed
gangle trap, biting the tender throat 
of my hours, viral spreading,
life sapping, dull billboards, those
hypertense sucking creepers of
wounded hearts, in thrice silence
dispelled meekly by the outward 
breath so detached in the soul's
crystal laughter drifting beyond 
the cries of the minute keeper to
a stillness beyond cogito to tears 
of joy raining on the inside. 

Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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When Have We? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo by Rachel Claire from Pexels

“Solitude is a fount of healing ….” Carl Jung

When Have We?

How does one receive silence in its absence,
when we have forgotten what it is like 
to fold into our deepest self and 
touch something that opens us to 
everything there is and, without holding, 
hold the cosmos, our heart of hearts,
overcome with feeling to the point of not
speaking words of inadequate meaning 
that fall like fruit premature, pretty,
but o so sour to the ear who knows.
When have we been so possessed of that 
silence beyond silence?

Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights reserved ®

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The Present Moment – Haibun by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Frank is hosting the Haibun (prose + haiku) with an invitation to write about the present moment.

dVerse Poets – Haibun – The Present Moment

Photo: Patrizia08, pixabay.com

“If you are depressed, you are living in the past. If you are anxious, you are living in the future. But, if you are at peace, you are living in the present.” Lao Tzu

The Present Moment

If I try to, I cannot reach back into all my yesterdays and reclaim them. And, even if I could, all that I would achieve is a reconstruction of days as perfect past moments. So I cannot reach back and hold any moment as it was. Besides I don't want to, the past is the past and best left as formative memory for better or worse.

The future eludes me in smoke and mirrors, the pathway is unclear, no plan is foolproof. Besides, if I could see even just a little ahead I would be adjusting my approach towards the perfect experience.

The most abiding feeling I have is of the fleeting present moment. That moment, the blinking of an eye, the moment between the inward and outward breath, which passes so quickly. These moments come and go and I have learned to treasure them before they slip into yesterday. But, to be in the present moment, I have to be present. 

under the branches
my inward and outward breath
present moment held.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

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To Go – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse De is hosting Quadrille with an invitation to use some form of the word Go!

dVerse Poets – Quadrille – Going, Going, Gone Poeming

Photo: Sam Carter, at unsplash.com

“Without reflection we go blindly on our way ….” Margaret J. Wheatley

To Go

To be or to go,
do I need to go,
do I want to go
anywhere at all,
the mountains in the 
distance called me to 
their high places, but I 
preferred to go to the 
valleys of my heart
and dwell in presence.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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My Quiet Treasury – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Lillian is hosting Open Link Night. dVerse Poets – OLN

Photo: pixabay.com

“When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you, a joy.” Rumi

My Quiet Treasury

I sat inside my quiet treasury of peaceful self
amidst a field of reliquaries sculpted from dreams,
with the eyes of the hidden ones watching closely,
sentinels of the night in communities of acceptance.

Amidst a field of reliquaries sculpted from dreams,
along narrow stone paths of adventure unknown,
sentinels of the night in communities of acceptance
who silently speak in defence of all that is valued.

Along narrow stone paths of adventure unknown
I plumbed the forest's deep guilty pleasures
who silently speak in defence of all that is valued,
and offered as generous joy overflowing.

I plumbed the forest's deep guilty pleasures
with the eyes of the hidden ones watching closely,
and offered as generous joy overflowing,
I sat inside my quiet treasury of peaceful self.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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She Went Deep – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

VJs Weekly Challenge – Frost

Photo: activenorth.se

“What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.” John Steinbeck

She Went Deep

She went deep, 
so deep that she opened the door 
of summer's heat to winter's cool
in a flash of such interior calm that
time slowed down a pulse of almost
nil and a half where the externals 
were clear for the first time and
she slipped away inside, distilling
everything to an unsurpassable 
peace of body held as she withdrew
the world from her heart under a 
canopy of frost so cool, the heat of 
life could not seduce and melt her.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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The Whole Circus – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Image: http://www.ivyexec.com

“Do you pay regular visits to yourself? Start now.” Rumi

The Whole Circus

I like that my dystopian corners are quieter,
and calm still weaves through the convoluted
clutter of the greek tragedies  of my life
that disturb the meadows of my mind,
as wind excoriates dry grass in late summer
of the distended days of fiction on fire with
lacerated confusion, so I simply shut the 
door and sat without expectation, letting 
the whole circus pass me by.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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Present – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: Ormiston Gorge, NT

“From out of all the many particulars comes oneness, and out of oneness comes all the many particulars.” Heraclitus

Present

I sat in paradox and
watched my consolations
wash through me as water
runs through fingers in a 
nothingness of interiority,
a mystical, infused experience
that left me lighter and present
to myself in the lee of my desire
that once dark cloud now
dispersed.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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Of Threads – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Image: tomorrowstarted.com

“Breathe and let be.” Jon Cabat-Zinn

Of Threads

The point at which the
moment disappeared
is lost to me,
all that lingers is the feeling
of threads slipping, loosing, 
releasing me into a floating
drift in a space between
where I stretched out across
the sky so lightly that the stars
passed through me as
intangible procession,
and as the last thread unwound
I found myself beyond myself, 
I found myself true.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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