The wind

Stephen Chinnock

22 August 2020

The wind is blowing hard
on my soul
whipping up storms
of confusion
lack of a clear direction

Just when I thought
it’s all under control
a storm brews
sending me down avenues
I’d rather not visit

Understanding our condition
doesn’t mean
we can swipe it away
try as we might

The clouds in the mind
continue to drift
endlessly from west to east
why haven’t I planted
my feet in the sand today

Stuck in a dilemma
of heart versus mind
wanting the mind to win
taking away the pain

I’m stuck sitting
with Narcissistic
reflections on my own soul
what I see in that pool
of reflections is an old man struggling
to make sense of it all

Sense or understanding
difficult to reach
in this confusing time
the whole world
spinning out
dividing us
into ever diminishing
circles of fate!