I look for silence, but it is always beyond my grasp.
It is as if I am surrounded by a labyrinth of sound and I am endlessly seeking the end of the maze that will set me free.
If I would find it, I would have peace, a moment to reflect, a moment to be still.
When I do find a quiet place in time, I want to hold on to it, breath it in.
But then my mind finds sounds of it’s own.
Reminding me of the things I should do,
Stopping by memories long forgotten, reliving times that I wish would vanish.
The silence is gone, and I realize I cannot own silence.
It own itself.
When I am lucky, I get to borrow it for awhile. If only I will allow it.