How to Calm a Fickle Mind
Sometimes my brain kicks on overdrive
Running in circles and swirls and lines
Antsy with thoughts I can't place racing by
I can only conclude that I won’t be fine.
One such day I took a walk
And cried out, “Help me, I’m tired”
Soft sweet ferns whispered and soothed
While swaying trees beckoned to the wild
I took off my shoes and I laid in the grass;
I closed my eyes,
and found my thoughts
not
as
fast.
But still my toes tapped.
My fingers drummed.
My legs bounced.
My brain hummed.
So I opened a notebook to a blank page
I wrote the date and began in a haze.
The pen pinned down ideas, helped me think things through
Drawing out a branched path
Allows a better point of view.
I sat on the ground, then I laid on my bed;
I found a hard bench, then I stood on my head—
But all the way through my notebook was there
My pen kept on moving, my brain far from bare.
The sun dipped down low
I held up my scrawled art
Wisdom from the labyrinth
Untangled by the heart
I read it through a time or two
Tracing back every word—
The lilted prose, the rhythm and groove
I heard my song in the birds.
They chirped and danced, so I sang along with them
Flitting through dappled leaves
I flew through pink clouds, then I rested on a bough
For the world is what you believe.
I realized then with a stilted grin –
That my legs were not shaking as they had been
My fingers were still
My teeth did not grind
My mind floated gently
I said, I am fine.
My stomach was free of butterflies and moths;
My body was airy, no longer a sloth.
I walked down the path with the moon smiling too
And I scribbled a note:
Write to break through.