Silence, a stilling of not only the voices outside but the inner voices, the roof brain chatter. Now, without the babble or words – inner and outer – I watch my mind, notice when a thought arises. I turn my attention inward, asking, "Who is thinking this thought?" As the mind turns to look, the thinker seems to disappear. But a focus comes from asking, a clearing a deepening. No "me," but a presence. Awareness.
Oh, that I might ever know
Your Presence in every face
Your Pulse in every heart;
That I might ever feel
Your Breath in every breeze
Your Touch in each rain drop;
That I might ever see
Your Smile in every bloom
Your Might in each sunrise.
And, oh, please grant
That I might view
Life's beauty through
Your Eyes.