Listening to the whistling of the wind
while safe inside my hide-away, alone,
I find myself chagrined
that I can still be thrown
by the uncertainty of where I’m being blown.
Merciless analysis within
is matched by constant clattering outside.
I much prefer the din
of leaves now dead and dried
over the chatter that seems never to subside.
Sifting revelations from the thoughts that come and go
requires a place of solitude and peace.
For when distractions cease,
egoic thinking, I release,
and stagnant inspiration starts to flow!
Hearing what my heart-mind has to say
allows my creativity to thrive.
Then all the fears that weigh
transform to “come what may”;
the higher knowingness inside me, I revive.
Imagination keeps my faith alive!