A Poem on Listening

Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash

Whether it is quiet,
Or a part of a noisy riot,
There are times to pause, and
Reflect, upon that which is there

A single stare focused and present
Paying attention, and freed up to
Release our tension, built up over time

Which may not be a rhyme, yet is
For surely sublime, and
Part of the space-time

Continuum

Part and parcel, then
To all that was before, a metaphor,
Yes, and
A signal of what’s in store

Which is often missed when distracted
And often retracted
From Self

Focus split over dimensions, so
Why not mention, divided attention
Is disconnection with the best of intentions

And not a problem, yet
Beware of the resistance
You may feel as the breeze blows,
Which is common prose for those that know

That resistance, and
Not persistence feeds the many
Lingering thoughts, which intrude
Without common…