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.
