A silence found in having no desire, Sitting alone by the open fire.
A quiet discovery in being nowhere, while looking inside in a reflective stare.
The mind stops fleeing trying to be elsewhere.
Simple thoughts in small spaces, Appreciate all the many transitional faces.
A newborn snowflake melts on glass, and sees creation will always pass.
A warm heart holding time in an open palm, Knows it will race by, yet remains calm.
Hiding from the self in preoccupation. This is where I stopped and got off at the station.
Looking back, looking in, Is this where have I been?
A thought looking at a thought, and thinking?
Holding it like an object to analyze, Some thoughts still lingering as a surprise.
What creates the thoughts we think? What causes the actions we choose to do?
By Charles Denton