A Stream Flowing Over

When my mind is still, my heart can listen, a silent warfare against the noise, the disturbance of a distant wind.

I will never understand the whirlwind, but in the forest there is shelter, a wholeness waiting,

saying, “Here is the way”. A softer tone, a stream flowing over,

and sending me into the far away,

and back again, at the same time,

drifting, and following the light

through the trees,

allowing my heart to listen.

When I am still, I am alive.

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