The Song of the Jammin Jong

A frayed nerve and a little spat My mind running away with all that The children’s quibble grows louder in wrath My nose tells me the damn dog needs a bath


A quite corner, some personal space I kick off my shoes and extend my embrace Something goes up and something goes down My mind like a wheel goes round and round


Return from the past, small bits of me I piece them together to build my tree I choose to ignore a knock at my door My time, my space, I have the floor Coming back to my body, the numbness fades Feelings of the ground, the air and my hair invade Unattached to what might happen in five minutes or ten My mind again wanders to the meaning of zen Suddenly I snap back to the matter at hand Reaching out with awareness my energy expands Simultaneously touching the vectors six I no longer feels like a stack of bricks


Inside the outside I begin to twirl Flapping around like a flag would unfurl In any direction it goes without end Eddies and vortexes in the river-bend


The unceasing flow through me feels like a dream Slowly and surely I’m swimming upstream All the bits and pieces form into one Fulfilling their duty like father to son

Something inside me decides to try And it all goes away in the blink of an eye As I hear in my ear my favorite song I think to myself that was one jammin jong

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