When the secret is buried
This poem is about the secret being buried, buried in the cloudiness of the mind.
I don't know what I want,
No and absolute no clue,
But maybe that is the full answer,
Just not thinking about it,
Maybe my body gives me my answer,
Loud and clear,
I am forgetting my body,
All that is within,
My breathing,
My tiredness,
My longing,
And my pain.
Those things that my brain wishes away,
Those things that are mentally painful,
Calming down the brain,
Calming down the constant wanting,
But maybe there,
In the wideness of its emptiness,
Lies a secret,
Well buried under the layers of the onion,
A sacred gift sanctuated for decades,
Forgotten and never touched again.
The hope for more,
For the human intuition,
The small whispers of the soul,
Those that know the answers,
And those that show it in the body.