Sometimes when I go for a swim

I lie on my back, buoyant

And stare aimlessly at the evening sky.

Raindrops fall on my face

The gushing water subsumes me

Everything else in the world is quiet

And I become a leaf

Floating in the stream.

Sometimes when I peek from my window

The clouds passing by,

Mighty and grey, majestic and white

Marching towards a finish line.

I leap out of my seat

As if pulled by the wind

Chasing the blue skies.

Sometimes when I gaze at the moon

A crescent, a waxing gibbous,

Or the full moon

Illuminating the night sky

I hold my breath:

My breath holds me.

What is moon? What is me?

Who is gazing at whom?

As we bid each other goodbye

I become one with the night.

Sometimes I wonder about

Our curious fixation with the 'mind'

It seems to me a misnomer -

"The practice of mindfulness"

When the core of it is simply

Open-hearted presence.