skonen_blades

I think to think of thoughts these days as sounds that wind-chimes make
My mind a tiny cabin in the mountains by a lake
The wind chimes on the porch are blown by passing gusts of time
That bring events that jangle brains and make the wind-chimes chime
The winds blow strong or weak or smooth or sometimes very still
But guaranteed the chimes will always make some sounds until
The thoughts can get too loud or shrill or angry with their sound
Incessant as my life’s events all bang the chimes around
But if I want. But if I can. But if I need to do it.
I can step away from them and merely listen to it.
I am not the sounds the wind-chimes of my brain create
It’s just an apparatus making sounds I sometimes hate
But listening is passive and divisive with this ear
Because the sound is over there and I am over here
I don’t have to be affected by the constant sound
It can just be jangly noises that I am around
I can make them background noises. Hear them rise and fall.
Pause until the wind-chimes hardly make a sound at all.
It’s good to hear time passing and to listen to the chimes
To notice what is good and bad and single out the times
That are worth keeping stored in memory banks as lessons learned
The rest can just move with wind as all the chimes are turned
It’s oddly meditative to see thoughts as separate things
Created by a construct pushed by time to make some rings
Brains are meat, I know, but I think brains should know their places
As merely CPUs behind our bony, meaty faces
You are so much more than just your thoughts on any days
So much more expansive in a myriad of ways
So try to take a step aside and listen to your mind
Your brain’s an organ, sure, but hey. It doesn’t have to grind.
Try to let the thoughts all tinkle by on winds of time.
To see them passively as merely products of a chime.





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