Do you think my mind doesn’t wander at night,
thinking of important things?
Who I must call tomorrow, or how certain words might compose
the perfect poem?
My mind wanders, and I wander with it,
hand in hand, delighted in the company.
No use in writing down that perfect poem before I forget it!
It was lost to begin with!
Happy wanderings!
Beautiful image.
I too take delight in the company of the mind though I cannot call it mine as I find that I have no control over it, only the appearance that I do
Hello Kaushik!
Thanks so much =)
Hi Cedric,
A bit like two companions walking a winding trail, it can sometimes seem!
Sweetwater,
Kenton
What you say in this poem, beautifully, is also very important. Looking around at the conventional “spiritual wisdom” today, one might get the idea that the mind and ego are nefarious enemies. They are very much a part of us–suffering is when we think they are us; natural being is when we see them as our lovable, naughty creations.
Delightful, Kaushik! I especially liked ‘lovable, naughty creations’. How wonderfully spoken =)
Hugs,
Kenton
What guides the mind when it wanders?
Is it space?
It it light?
Is it joy?
Or simply the freedom to roam
and play…
Poetic paradox. Very beautiful.
Thanks Rahul!
Hugs,
Kenton
I lay awake at night in bed letting my mind wander freely, so random, so confused wandering alone into the field of thought. I stop at a bush of idea and stare with confusion, should i stay and see where it might take me or should i keep wandering alone till i come across another bush? I wander helplessly asking myself are these my thoughts or just simply placed there for me to find. Should i water the ideas and act on them or should i just move on and leave them for the next wanderer?
So very nice, tcoe. One might ask the question — is it ourselves coming upon these bushes, or are the bushes all that there is?
Sweetwater,
Kenton
Davidya, I missed your comment and must reply belatedly =) I’ll suggest the last, and thanks for putting it in such lovely words.