The mind, a tempest, whipped by restless thought,
A surging sea where waves of worry crash,
And peace, a distant, fragile bloom, unsought,
Is lost within the moment's frantic dash.
But stillness waits, a refuge gently wrought,
Where inner silence makes a soothing splash.
Sitting down lets breath one's anchor be,
To find the calm that sets his spirit free.
©bfa030125
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