Vacuous Thought
Our minds, our guardians,
for the weakness of the flesh,
the challenge of one’s growth,
protection of innocent’s passion.
Our minds, our guardians,
growing old,
struggling with past and future,
innately seeking truth.
Our minds, our guardians,
biding time which asks nothing of us,
but to allow focus,
which chooses not ignorance,
but seeks needs over wants.
Our minds, our guardians,
nature's scholarly heart pumping quietly
while withstanding the noise,
the clatter of the lost climbing ever higher
into deliriant clouds.
Love ya!
Jane
Ron
budd