The mist of the mind is laced with songs and words and cyclones of feelings
The barren wasteland of the mind’s deserted battleground holds sadness and great desolation. Like the cave of wounds dark shadows line the periphery lamenting their lost (laces)
I visit the mists of my mind- dark and shadowy- to find a way to bring quiet to the raging places.
I visit the dark mist of my mind to hear the echoes, to embrace them- fear and all- so I may no longer be afraid- so I may find peace with them.
The lace of mist within and beneath my consciousness links me to the whole- for in venturing through it I see the light that shines betwixt the misty cracks of darkness- for in opening my heart-and stepping through it- I begin understanding that the misty land of noise is but a corridor to a larger room- bathed in gold and white.
I follow the thread back through the musty darkness of white noise to find this self patiently waiting, expectant and faithful.
I return with a deeper empathy for my present. I Am, I Am, I Am