The Uncluttered Mind
a poem by Victor Klimoski
Before my mind is overcome
by news of the world’s woe,
I want to think of water,
fresh, cold water, cascading
over shelves of jagged rock
and falling like skeins of rich silk.
As water crashes to the ground,
I want to feel its spray,
the misty baptism shriving me
of pettiness and a closed heart.
Refreshed and born again
into the heart of matter itself,
I want to embrace the world,
to let it know it is part of me
as it is part of the pooling water,
reflecting the clear blue sky.
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