A silence found in having no desire,
Sitting alone by the open fire.
A quiet discovery in being nowhere,
while looking inside in a reflective stare.
The mind stops fleeing trying to be elsewhere.
Simple thoughts in small spaces,
Appreciate all the many transitional faces.
A newborn snowflake melts on glass,
and sees creation will always pass.
A warm heart holding time in an open palm,
Knows it will race by, yet remains calm.
Hiding from the self in preoccupation.
This is where I stopped and got off at the station.
Looking back, looking in,
Is this where have I been?
A thought looking at a thought,
and thinking?
Holding it like an object to analyze,
Some thoughts still lingering as a surprise.
What creates the thoughts we think?
What causes the actions we choose to do?
By Charles Denton