I think they call it the protector
Which I take to mean
That it keeps evil spirits from the main room
The flowers are silk
Which is a disappointment
Though the water is real
As are the offerings of Bergamot and Coffee
Actually, the protector is there
To ensure that I am not prevented
From reaching my spiritual realisations
Why, how I thank you for that
I take a few minutes out
For a breathing meditation
I breathe in, I breathe out
Exactly as the instruction card says
But I also think to myself
Of what photographs I could have taken
To accompany the words
To justify the words
The ploughed field
The partridge, or pheasant
The tree line on top of the hill
The orange-tint, on the distant tree
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