Noise

Big world
so much happening
media inundation
unrealistic expectation
noise abounds

voices
yelling
traffic
guns
media

the pressure to be
something
anything
other than.

disappointment in exactly what we are.

I have bumps and lumps and aches and questions and anxieties and a car that needs new brakes and dog hair on my couch and a green pepper that has died a slow and painful death in my crisper and projects not completed and boxes in my garage not traversed in years and weeds peppering my garden and doubts about my faith and friends I haven't talked to in too long.

Not knowing that
the only thing
worth listening to
resides in a still
small
voice which can only be heard
when
we are quiet
surrounded by the knowledge that it is there.

Knowledge that the small place
isn't small at all
but is simply the everything
the source
the space and mystery and pulse of all that is and ever was
which
sits not only
everywhere

but also in you.