To hear my voice in the silence of my mind
Unaware on the outside of the passing of time
In these dark crevices, what is it that I hide
The sound of mid-tones words
As the prayer wheel turns
A Mantra for me, I must learn.
The superstitions of religion created in the past
Stained glass images are not what they seem.
Contradictions of the forgiver will condemn the sinner.
The sound of one repetitive tone
Within my mind, it is clear
A Mantra for me erases my fears.
How to adapt to this changing world
Freedoms traded for political ignorance
Will we forgive or forget this
The sound of creation of the world
The sound of the echos of life
The heart of unconditional love
From a mother, it will come.
The sound of this language I must learn.
Ancient in its wisdom more than sound more than a word
A mantra for me is what I have heard.
©Copyright Thomas Dooley 2020
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