The Observer

Apparently I should understand,

What’s going on inside my mind.

But when I probe,

It remains elusive.

Enigmatically reclusive.

When I simply sit still,

A cascade of thoughts and feelings,

All compete for centre-stage.

Like the din of an audience,

Before a performance.

Or a cacophony of debate,

Competing for a point to make,

With no speaker to call ‘Order’!

Rarely these facets of me,

Can ever seem to agree.

When I can become observer,

Watching the chaos unfold.

Avoiding the compelling draw.

The roar then abates.

Quiet calm is my state.

I can sit aware of arisings.

Comforted all will pass,

That all is transient.

This state is not easily found.

But it is truly profound.



Today brought epiphany,

Hidden in symphony.

Not drowned by cacophony,

Surrounded by my infamy.

I am not one who,

Can ever be true.

To one point of view,

I always need new.

So accept this foresight,

And try not to blight.

This new insight,

Your nature don’t fight.

Although you’re changeable,

You’re still agreeable.

Remember you’re capable,

Of much that’s honourable.