Meditation

I sink to the floor
of the waves within
and outside
magpies cackle
rinsing no doubt
their beaks to a shine
as if dipped in tar
after bullying the woodpigeons
who have their say
as I bet cat’s ears
bend in the wind
while bees surely
take their fill everywhere.

And I now know
that blowing a dandelion
is freedom
and each wisp
is a moment
drifting.