The Circle

The circle

The rustle of the blanket

Pulling me away from sleep

From silence

But in the absence of silence

In the midst of noise

Peace

Contrast of the rustle of sheets

Against the white noise of electricity

 

I sit,

I wait,

I listen for the voice

Of stillness

It is everywhere

It is in the noise

And in the chaos

In the song of the wind in the trees

In the birds above

In their cycle around the cycle of life

Diving

Whirling

Quiet

 

I breath.

Great breaths

Small ones

Shallow

Deep

I am breathing in the world

I am accepting the insanity of it

I am letting it pass through me like a cloud

And suddenly

The world and I are breathing together

Like lovers on a downy bed

Heart beats unified

Skin upon skin

The world and I are one

Beauty and the tragedy are one

Chaos and the order are one

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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