Grasping To Be Free Of The Clouds Poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt

The stillness of
sunlight
grasping to be free
of the clouds.
Puddles on the ground,
hinting at the
rain that fell in the night.
These are
the abstractions
that stroke the
fondling of my thoughts.
I am firmly entrenched
in my solitude,
yet there are still
a thousand voices
in my head.
They try and
speak to me,
but with triumph,
they are ignored.
Silent inside,
where the knives
of shunning
do not matter.
Stopping to
centre myself
on the stones
and rocks
that surround
the heart.
Softly release them.
Anticipate nothing,
which lets serenity begin.
This moment, this
tiny blot of time,
I have decided
to give up suffering.
Allowing only
the sunlight
to condition myself.
There, in that
frosted glass of
being nothing,
is where I feel
only peace.