Like a hammer that bangs
to drown out the noise it makes,
The mind numbs me with logic
and philosophy.
When will it tire of all this?
Words, words, words.
The mind seeks to describe You,
and in so doing misses
the point it sought to make.
The voice of the heart
is tried and convicted,
Guilty of longing and
sentenced to silence.
The judge and jury
continue to rant and rave.
Oh mind, when will I
tire of all this?
Esther Veltheim
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