The stillness of my being
In the stillness of my being, I listen
Yet hear nothing
Hours pass, yet nothing
Do I have no thoughts? Nothing within?
Or is everything so busy that a numbness has been created
Over the years, forming a blanket over whatís there
Letting only fleeting emotions surface
Confusion feeding my stagnation
Fear dripping slowly into my body
My weakness overpowering any boldness
Sorrow, resting in the pit of my stomach
Am I really, Peace Love and Joy?
How many layers must I fight through?
Will it be painful? Can I do it right?
How will I know when I get there?
Will it be worth it?
And there they are
Thoughts. Plentiful. Deep. Painful. Mine.
In the stillness of my being, I listen,
Try to observe and not judge.