Thoughts drift in, like clouds in the sky,
Some dark, some bright, as they float by.
They twist and turn, they rise and fall,
Yet none remain, they heed no call.
With disbelief, I grab and cling,
Trying to grasp what each might bring.
But clouds aren’t meant for hands to hold,
They’re only passing, soft and cold.
Acceptance waits with arms open wide,
Like the endless blue, so deep, so wide.
It whispers gently, “Let them go,
They come and go, as rivers flow.”
And in that space where clouds drift free,
A calmness settles over me.
I breathe, release, and start to see,
That peace resides in simply being...
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