Preeth Ganapathy
Meditation
Cross-legged on the damask mat
I sit in lotus pose,
Spine erect, fingers curled
In the stencilled image of a yogi
Attempting to still a loping mind
To escape the crunch of chafed feelings
Under the wheels of fatuous thoughts
A traveller hitches her backpack
Ties her shoelaces
at the start of a journey.
My stomach bulges into the swell
Of a sine wave with each inhale
And transubstantiates into a deflated balloon
With each exhale.
She hikes along ineffable pathways
absorbing flutings of a hundred panoramas
The matted seaweed of reports are like plaintive pigeons
To be released into the blue sky,
Scaling treacherous mountain peaks cluttering the desk,
Errors that raise hackles of suspicion
Nestle against the comfort of found satisfaction,
And vie with sapid headspace reserved for creativity.
She watches the brushed exteriors of delirious reality,
But does not judge, only watches.
The thrum of solutions, the slate of reforms,
Piggyback on fractals of realisation.
“Talk to them,” a soft voice soothes the mind,
“No problem is too big
When dealt with a little kindness,
A little love,” the voice says.
She corrals the visions and threads them into
Pigtailed pleats of experience
On the roseate palette of her mind
Until she finds the intimation of that footstep,
A missive, to her real self.
Preeth Ganapathy's writings have appeared before in a number of online magazines including The Ekphrastic Review, Visual Verse, Willawaw Journal, Buddhist Poetry Review and Mothers Always Write. She is also the winner of Wilda Morris’s July 2020 Poetry Challenge. Currently she works as Deputy Commissioner of Income Tax in Bangalore, India.
Cross-legged on the damask mat
I sit in lotus pose,
Spine erect, fingers curled
In the stencilled image of a yogi
Attempting to still a loping mind
To escape the crunch of chafed feelings
Under the wheels of fatuous thoughts
A traveller hitches her backpack
Ties her shoelaces
at the start of a journey.
My stomach bulges into the swell
Of a sine wave with each inhale
And transubstantiates into a deflated balloon
With each exhale.
She hikes along ineffable pathways
absorbing flutings of a hundred panoramas
The matted seaweed of reports are like plaintive pigeons
To be released into the blue sky,
Scaling treacherous mountain peaks cluttering the desk,
Errors that raise hackles of suspicion
Nestle against the comfort of found satisfaction,
And vie with sapid headspace reserved for creativity.
She watches the brushed exteriors of delirious reality,
But does not judge, only watches.
The thrum of solutions, the slate of reforms,
Piggyback on fractals of realisation.
“Talk to them,” a soft voice soothes the mind,
“No problem is too big
When dealt with a little kindness,
A little love,” the voice says.
She corrals the visions and threads them into
Pigtailed pleats of experience
On the roseate palette of her mind
Until she finds the intimation of that footstep,
A missive, to her real self.
Preeth Ganapathy's writings have appeared before in a number of online magazines including The Ekphrastic Review, Visual Verse, Willawaw Journal, Buddhist Poetry Review and Mothers Always Write. She is also the winner of Wilda Morris’s July 2020 Poetry Challenge. Currently she works as Deputy Commissioner of Income Tax in Bangalore, India.