I used to think
in all my liberal, well-learned haughtiness
that internal stillness came from the clearing of distraction
which inevitably meant detachment from stuff.
In fact, I often scoffed at bells and fancy rugs
as the supplements to achieving peace.
Even texts I though superfluous. 
But tonight I baked Amish friendship bread
which smells like cinnamon
while listening to Norah Jones
whose voice sounds like satin
and those two things
brought me closer to bliss than I’ve been in a long long time.
Takes a lot
or perhaps just the right little
to unlearn the absurdity of being well-learned.