Within silence

Gazing at objects as peace becomes
The mystery of unending voice
Questioning
Condemning
Spirals of echoes
Filter between
The thought and reality
To silence the music
Not quite soothing
Restless verse plays on
Like a record skipping
In an empty room.
In faces there waits
What we truly perceive
And the blank walls we give names
To the insecurities that arise
For they must see us, right?
As we truly are,
Beings ugly,
People unworthy
Yet the mirror reflects only
What we see
And with open eyes and a soul
Quiet
Contemplative
Forgiving
We can behold the fine beauty
Of a soul born who in simplicity says
I am
And it is all
It is enough.
It is not suffering
To silence the voices that know no better,
That override sense
And sensibility
Creating their inner illusions
We buy into the words
Treated like the latest news
Believed,
Not skewered
But truth.
Though we know some perception is truly a lie,
Evoking fear
Creating chaos.
Why do we then believe our inner voice
Created of insecurity and doubt,
Holding on for dear life
As we pry its thought tentacles loose,
Banishing it to elsewhere
And in that moment
Setting ourselves free to become
Whole once more,
Simple
One with all.