In your deepest recess what do you desire
What are your longings how do you aspire
When covered in darkness enmeshed with the night
What is your solace what makes things right
What do you turn to when all seems lost
When warmth is elusive and all’s covered in frost
Can’t seem to breathe all airways clogged
Your mind is cloudy your presence fogged
We all have a center a place of pure being
This is where we turn when we need to cling
Is it for you a temple statue or poem
A task or a person you’ve come to call home
This holy union of you and thou
Fills up emptiness and quiets somehow
The beast that was raging churning and wild
Salves like mother’s blanket on her beloved child
Be still and quiet go to that place
Drink it all in with the sage of your grace
It is ever present no matter the travail
It holds and keeps and guarantees you’ll prevail
Where do you turn to when all around you is swirling?
What provides answers and solace for you?
Do you have a personal practice you have been cultivating?
How does it feed you? Is it enough? What else do you need?