The Sand Hill Review               http://www.sandhillreview.org              2009

 

 

 

 

 A Meditation on Meditation and Prayer

 

A late local micro-brewery wheat beer
is meditation,
Prayer, a Guinness Stout;
Meditation, a first slow sip,
Prayer a big swallow
on Friday afternoon.

Prayer is the ambulance, Meditation
is hearing an ambulance.
Meditation waits for you
like your cat in the
window, Prayer lingers like the
last Barfly after happy hour. 
Meditation is
noticing the cut on your finger
has stopped hurting; Prayer is folding
away the jagged lid of the
cat food can. Prayer is the prosecution,
Meditation is the defense.
The mind is the Jury, the Body
is the judge.

Prayer and Meditation live together
in a little town rife with
suspicion.  Prayer is one word
mind-mouthed,
and sent out through this pencil,
Meditation is someone
reading this by watching the end
of my pencil
wiggle.

Meditation is the waitress who asked
my father, “Who’s the little man
with you tonight?” Prayer is the
young hostess who sat me here.
Prayer is air-conditioning
blowing into this corner booth on a July

evening;
Meditation is the hum of the fan

coming through the table,
and the change when the compressor

kicks in.

Repetition makes the Prayer seem
like an answer.
Repetition makes Meditation
Meditation.
Meditation is watching that young girl.
Prayer is trying not to stare at her breasts.
Prayer is learning the words to
Hotel California, Meditation is
Desolation Row.
Meditation is the illusion of perfection
flirting with Jazz,

Prayer is the melody floating through.
Meditation is worrying about getting old

at 40, Prayer is worrying about
getting old, at 75.
Prayer is usually signified
by positions of the hands;
Meditation, by positions
of the butt.
Meditation is the fear you feel
knowing now is the best time to ask,

Prayer is when the bottom falls out
of your heart
as you say the words.

There are many names for the things you

put into the body,
very few for what comes out.

 

Terry Adams