Mindlessness – a poem by Daryl Muranaka


I believe I hear
the cheering of the frogs
I listen with my eyes
closed, legs folded
in seiza trying to get
my Zen on.
Of course,
this is all wrong.
I was never taught
to do it this way
but to sit, half-lotus,
with my eyes wide open
watching the crack
in the wall open
to swallow all my thoughts
like the two mallards
scattering into the trees
because I forgot
to lock my door
two hours ago.


Daryl Muranaka lives in the Boston area with his wife and two children.  He enjoys aikido and tai chi chuan and exploring his children’s multiple cultures. His poems have appeared in Gyroscope Review, the Roanoke Review, and Spry Literary Review. He has published one collection and two chapbooks.

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