Poem by Mike Kewley

It’s frustrating,
I know.

You’ve read
all the books

and sat with
all the right Teachers
Guru’s and Healers.

Yet your third eye
didn’t twinge,
let alone open.

Your sacred Kundalini energy
didn’t wake up and seems
to be sleeping deeper
then ever.

You didn’t see visions
or lights
in your meditation,
you snoozed instead.

It’s always like this;

You were in the ashram toilet
when Sai Baba
conjured gold
from air,

You had a coughing fit
just as your Guru explained
the meaning of life,

You were inside
eating momo’s
as the Dalai lama
walked through the street.

Astral travel,
Chakra alignment,
Psychic powers,
Satori and Enlightenment,

You want it all.

and yet
it never seems
to happen.

You don’t know
how lucky
you are.

Commentary

Why did Mike Kewley return to the Isle Of Man? To knead sourdough. Where else could enlightenment be but in the taste of his bread?