1/27/24
“It comes as the gentle caress of opening a window
In a stale warm room.
A whispering reminder that fresh air and insight
Are the same thing.”
I wrote this in 2013 and yet I fail to heed its message over and over.
I like to believe that logically thinking things through mindfully
is the same as experiencing a silent moment,
Always forgetting that “All the noise in the universe is silent
next to a single whispering thought.”
And yet my thoughts sing out to me in overlapping
harmonies, obscuring the present moment from my mind,
Tricking me into believing that I'm really here, in the now.
It's like going to look out my window by watching my TV,
superimposing so much noise and visuals before my open mind.
I want to shut off the television and listen to the birds sing.
Maybe then I can find that inner peace I've
been missing all these years stuck in my head.
I want to reread my poem, “Behind my Fingers: Noise and Comparison"
All those years of study and practice culminated in one creative poem/video.
Then I want to meditate for fifteen minutes to see what it might bring my soul.
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