Meditation Poem by Natasa To

At dawn the temple breathes in light,
Soft bells ripple through the quiet air.
Incense rises like forgotten prayers,
Curling toward a sky still half asleep.



Bare feet touch the cooling stone,
Each step a whisper, slow and sacred.
The world outside loosens its grip —
No hurried clocks, no restless noise.



A monk sweeps fallen leaves in silence,
As if even the dust deserves peace.
Candles tremble beside ancient walls,
Their small flames steady against the dark.



I sit beneath the watching statues,
Hands folded like unopened flowers.
Breath enters, breath leaves —
A tide washing the mind clean.



Thoughts drift past like temple birds,
Never caught, never chased.
In stillness, the heart grows wide enough
To hold sorrow without fear.



And somewhere between two quiet breaths,
The self becomes lighter than smoke —
Not gone, only softened,
Like rain dissolving into a sacred river.