THE STILL POINT

 

 

THE STILL POINT

 

Stand still. Find your still point.

You will find a sanctuary there. 

All the wind you can whistle for

will run through you like spirits

hovering, pulling you through

all the small boxes keeping you

your own unshackled prisoner,

moored to fears fencing you in

like the pages of a book bound

to a rind, like a caged sparrow

perched on a bar will hop down

rather than fly in narrow air. 

When you get there, that place

will not be there till you find it.

Build it from fondest dreams,

house them in open chambers.

Let the winds of everywhere

and everything rifle through

its corridors to find you free,

unafraid to roam elsewhere

because you know there is this

still point to go home to. Always.

 

--- Albert B. Casuga