In the midst of all humanity
At the centre of our core
Where commonsense and sanity
Bring reason to the fore.
There’s a comfortable liaison
An inner peace of mind
Free from all invasion
From tanglement and bind
Here we find tranquility
A balancing of thoughts
The essence of stability
A sanctuary of sorts
. Somewhere transcendental – a perfect line
. Not a temple, neither monument nor shrine.

© Tim Grace, 6 August 2010

To the reader: Finding tranquility in the midst of chaos is no easy task but it’s a key to surviving the rat race. To some extent spiritual establishments provide a solid but artificial solution. They offer a sanctum of silence from which to escape into isolation until the self is sufficiently restored. The more mobile and accessible solution is to draw upon inner resources that overcome the confusion of chaos through quiet reflection. For me, restoration is achieved through meditative moments with a coffee or pen in hand.

To the poet: To highlight the difference between a transcendental state and a spiritual place this sonnet plays with positional phrases; the first three lines begin with in, at, and where. The second four lines, themselves in a mid-point, enter the inner sanctum of the self at peace. The last of the four line stanzas is descriptive of an essence given a substantive location … albeit transcendental.

not a temple