Monday, October 5, 2009

i am not a poet.

a constant flurry of mind wandering chaos.
and utter avoidance.
surrounded my mess and obstacles of my own making, both literal and figurative.
i sit and listen to quiet.
and noise.
but a repetitive drumming of sound.
and it isn't noise.
but the utter avoidance, of all that i need to do.
and the things that i won't.
although i am seated and still, my mind is dancing a terrible jig.
and i cannot dance.
as i sit and search my heart.
and wonder what i am afraid of, and why i am choosing avoidance.
confusion tops the list of everything.
but peace is found in the knowledge of knowing.
i am loved.

1 comment:

  1. Not a poet my butt! I think this is a wonderful non poem:)