Beatific
Swirls circling around the twister in your brain
You thought you were centered here comes torrential rain
You realize feeling good is not what your life’s about
Though feeling manic bouncing makes you want to shout
Beneath all the action buried deep within your mist
Lies a thoughtful peace and quiet that transcends analysis
It’s the eye within the needle the center of the storm
Is the breath of life within you the fire that keeps you warm
Burning very quietly a glow that will sustain
The salve that melts the aching and dries the pelting rain
The force that brings perspective when all seems frayed and worn
The deep abiding laughter the friendship in your storm
It’s the holy and the sacred inside your profane
The force feeding and guiding through all the searing pain
It enshrouds protecting the essential you
The center of your kingdom the place from which you rule
As you seek your status and abiding peace inside
Remember it’s the quiet that feeds your cells their pride
From this deep still all’s born that is worthwhile
A quiet holy birthing place with a beatific smile
When was the last time you experienced the comfort of the quiet still of your being?
What enabled your capacity to access it?
How did it feel?
What power or way of being in the world did it generate for you?
Was it real? Imagined?
How do you know? Does it make a difference?
