Concord Of Thoughts

Stasis invades with light
On tiny spider tracks
Traces of tears
Linear in sand

The ceasefire of our thoughts
The supple mind lays down
Its weapons, all its heavy arms
And weights

Doors swing slowly open
To beckon visitors
Seeking common shores
Without demands

Words in barest motion
An essence of poetry
Blue heat fatality
On faces of a flame

Prayers ascending wordlessly
To a Love God listening
Attending in other realms while
We are barely here

The peace concord of thoughts
The subtle mind lays down
Its weapons, all its heavy loves
And hates

Sabbatical from toil
A day, an exiled year
In deserts that must burn
To regenerate

Weekends without concern
No ripples on the surfaces
Geneva, Annecy
Timeless tideless lakes

The heavy white-haired Alps
Dreams drained of energy
The silent watching mountains
Overtaking me

Stasis content in dark
Eyes closed, starting to see
The tiny ships that sail with joy
Into infinity.

by Frank Bana

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