Seeking Silence
Who is the watcher behind closed eyes?
Who is the witness to the mind's wanderings?
Who is the dreamer?
And who is driving this ride?
Where is the focal point?
Moving attention... intention... awareness.
Aware of being aware,
Can be so heavy.
A floating ember,
I do not remember,
the face that looked back out of the fire.
We may have been friends,
but that was so long ago.
Cold ash, cinders & smoke.
Are those my true intentions?
In the wake of destruction,
we're able to see our mistakes,
and choose to do nothing different.
Quiet night and dead skin peeling.
Our mind like a fruit
drops seeds
where mighty oaks may grow
or tangled weeds.
All harvests are a means to the end.