ERIC MASTERTON

Mind

                  Open to receive at all times
                  open also to others
                  as they come and they go
                  opening eyes and ears to listen:
                  soft,

Soft, they murmur mystery together.

                  Coming to terms with
                  the complexities woven
                  freer of illusions created
                  by misunderstanding
                  this helping me build
                  my own kind of shrine
                  offering a tree of night
                  spangled with a thousand stars
                  and a frost crescent moon
                  receiving from it the strength
                  of contemplation
                  the refuge of peace

Sitting

              Sitting thinking, no shouldn’t be;
             breath in, quiet as a mist in woods,
             breath out my sigh almost audible,
             breath in like sea over shingle shore
             out, a storm like a gale approaching
             breath out, be a shield to me and
             and keep me still, open to receive
             all that is present, available to these
             thoughts that keep me in
             this room.

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