So much erroneous noise
Always surrounding, filling us up
When is the last time you heard the wind,
The tiny whisper that speaks to your essence?
I hear it now
Without and within
Full of resonance
Reverberation
Full of me
I feel the stillness,
The emptiness,
The being I am
In my silent meditations
I touch the word
stillness seems to be the easiest and the hardest thing.
As Daniel Ash once put it:
“Our little lives get complicated
It’s a simple thing
Simple as a flower
And that’s a complicated thing”