Thursday, April 11, 2013

The Eye

I had a dream, the dream had me,
to learn, to turn, to yearn, to see.
The thing that drives, that defines the path
is there, in front, behind, in mirth, in wrath.
I should stop and spin, take in the view.
I should run, should flee, should just start anew.
Instead, I breathe, eyes closed, mind nil,
and everything stops, all quiet, heart still.
A gentle refrain, faint, familiar, mine
begins to grow, to swell, define.
The song of my soul, briefly gone, walled out
fills my heart, now resounding, now a shout.
Eyes open slowly, knowing now my place:
the calm in the storm, while the outer winds race.
All is well, and the dream runs free.
All of the variables begin with me.

cd - 041113