This is the third poem in my Series on Silence.
by Deborah A. Bowman
Thoughts come in massive crowds.
I see them as clumps of clouds.
Some are dark, angry, forbidding.
Others are light, airy, forgiving.
Ease them away into a clear, blue sky.
Don’t even bother to wonder why.
Thoughts like mist pass through and move.
Calm, Silence, this is your proof
That your higher being is one with the Universe.
All static, chaotic energy is released.
Dwell on the present, your new home.
There’s no more reason for your thoughts to roam.