Meditative Mind

Resting in the silence,
attention pulled by memories.
Emotions follow energy,
energy attached to words.
The silence becomes a story.
The story becomes a memory.
Until I can’t tell one from the other.
Maybe there are some lessons
I’m not supposed to master.
Never knowing if it’s ego, desire,
conditioning, fate, or karma
that keeps me from the course.
So can I resist the pull,
or let it teach me?
We can’t really regret
unless we try.
And we can’t know ecstasy
until we let go.