Into the secret chamber go,
With random unused thoughts about.
All outer sounds are stilled.
All worldly lights are out.
Slow the breath, rest the eyes.
A solemn submission to another world.
To whatever depth of intellect required.
All corporal matters soon unfurled.
Maybe rocking gently in a sea of grace,
Allowing the soft swish of spray,
Drifting between crests of foam,
Cogent thoughts all float away.
Then, as this dreamland dwindles,
Tempered time also drifts away.
From that sleep, wakening,
To this, the miracle of day.