My first attempt…’Mantra’

Mantra

Nostrils flare, engulf sunken air

– thick as paddy field mud,

baked, feet, soothed,

free to an open dragging breeze.

Deep breath.

Eyes close.

Breath out – gently.  Air is fragile.

Focus the mind

On its circular target, and

Senses are cut.

Only sound remains.

Mantras drift lightly above denser

noises,

Again, noise, settles into sediment

layers.

Monk drones – hums – flutter by

and into my mind, on damselfly

wings.

Engine grumbles compete for

attention – rushers come

and go

but weaken with breathes.

Buddhists hold firm to the

night.

Rough tannoy chants, Muslim

prayers pierce unseen barriers

to the left.

Spiritual voices

distinct peoples’ choices.

Nature reminds – its incessancy

its constancy – it is

“we are”

Belches Toké.

Insect chorus provides backing.

Still minds drift.

Still – calm – minds rise above

as noises jostle

and all sounds will settle.

by David Bugg (2010)