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?

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