Do not rush into
this turbulence,
this cascadency
of panic
enslaved in
urgency.
‘Be still my
soul’.
The frothy tumble
of the day
strives to take control
and speed peace
away
in its manic
relentlessness.
‘Be still my
soul’.
The argument of
tasks:
a confluence of
confusion,
an attempted
mugging -
a plunderer
in a mask of
reality.
‘Be still my
soul’.
But my soul needs
no instruction
it is still, my
heart beats
its own music
undrowned by the
cacophony
and beyond
understanding.
No comments:
Post a Comment