Meditation

Cross legged
I chant Om,
underneath the elephant’s foot,
silenced by the presence
of a revelation.
Summer drips all around me,
but this grey weight
shields me from the rain.
My heavy, ominous umbrella.

I contemplate to run-
to stand up, stretch, be free.
My elephant remains strong
anticipating movement
beneath his toes.
Weight looming
like an uneasy secret.

Here I must meditate,
here I seek the peace
of salvation.