Thoughts disturb the calm in my mind
in the pool of my serenity
They dance about in the dark open spaces
whilst “What-if’s” and “Who-cares”
in rhetoric response
try to lasso and subdue
is the voice of truth,
and the hollow ring
of timeless traditions
reverberates forth in meaningless manifestations
making themselves at home
The broom in the closet itching
to sweep and clear the cobwebs away
I wish for my mind a vacation
but what would suffice in its absence?
Would it return refreshed and renewed?
Would it return at all?