I’d not be writing verses were it not
For Transcendental Meditation that
Once taught me how to sit still in one spot
And learn to make my mental habitat
Serene, in which all agitations are resolved,
A practice that brought blissful benefits,
But out of that, another has evolved
That leads me now to sharpening my wits.
Instead of zoning out, I’m tuning in,
Not murmuring a mantra, zombie-like,
But summoning my Muse, intent to win—
Feeling a bolt of inspiration strike,
And now I have a double benefit:
A concentrated mind and sharpened wit.