The Field of Satiety (Santosa)

Lyrics

[Intro]

[Verse 1]
Patanjali, in your sutras from 200 CE,
you whispered of Santosa,
contentment like a field where hunger quiets.
Here on this woven referee: Free Verse, no forced rhyme.
Here on this woven mat, free from forced rhyme, frayed threads from RTruncated, under banyans at dawn, 18 degrees Celsius,
I sit with you, old friend, counting breaths on mala beads.
One hundred eight, each a neuron firing soft,

[Chorus]
Oh mat, you hold my weight without complaint,
clay pot beside us, cool water from the Ganges tributary,

[Verse 2]
Remember the unnamed woman in the ashram shadows,
her quiet acceptance, burying a carved wooden bird under the tree,
ritual release, circa 150 CE, lost to texts.
Like her, I address you, mat, intimate as skin,

[Bridge]

[Verse 3]
Dawn breaks, world still, banyan rustles faint.
You, mat, my anchor in this neural garden,

[Outro]
One thousand perfect sighs, starting with this one.