Qi, by Ron. Lavalette

Qi
by Ron. Lavalette

I think I remember feeling it,
silently ebbing and flowing,
altering everything about me.

I recall my first encounter,
ages ago, at the University
in that meditation class,

OM-ing and focusing on breath
under the blue-sky maples
with Professor Gurumeister;

and I guess I sailed, then,
unanchored, adrift, imagining
I could avoid current events.

But I’m almost ancient now, and
the Morning News reminds me
I’ve forgotten the Guru’s name.

No matter; no matter. Nothing
matters anymore; I breathe deep,
unfurl my inner sail, and I’m gone.

Ron. Lavalette is a very widely published, award-winning writer living on the Canadian border in Vermont’s Northeast Kingdom. His first chapbook, Fallen Away (Finishing Line Press), is now available at all standard outlets. More than 250 pieces of his poetry and short prose have been published in both print and pixel form in journals, reviews, and anthologies ranging alphabetically from Able Muse and the Anthology of New England Poets through the World Haiku Review. A reasonable sample of his published work can be viewed online at EGGS OVER TOKYO.