Updated: Dec 3, 2021
There is a storm inside me called confusion,
A spectre in front of me called illusion,
I am a prisoner of incessant thinking,
Telling me that my inner world is sinking,
Down the futility drain.
Peace is a far off country
in an unknown universe
Forbidden and illusive.
Choking, engulfed, overwhelmed,
I am shaken by a force ferocious, unrelenting.
The outer casing of my protective shield sliding,
Walls of resistance crumbling,
Breathing through layers of raw burning flesh.
Gone are my judgements, explanations, my reasoning why?
It is part of the transition.
I ask the swirling to be stilled.
Breathing deeper as thoughts slow down,
I breathe in this moment.
Awake. Alive. Present.
Written by: Catherine Dixon