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Poem

I've always believed that I was aware of where my thoughts lie
and that they often arrive unbidden, as a foe or friendly ally.
Sometimes grabbing my attention, sifting around in my mind,
even those I attempt to suppress, the ones I feel are unkind.

Do thoughts lead to awareness or is it the other way around?
I pondered the contrast until an arc of enlightenment was found.
I discerned that I'm able to know whether I'm deluded or clear,
and that thinking gives way to awareness when it draws near.

There seems to be a slim boundary that separates the two,
often transparent, like a sheer veil I can almost see through.
I don't think I'd be wise to suppress my thoughts as they arise,
or my awareness may be obscured if forced to hide in disguise.

Does wisdom come to me through thought and meditation?
I believe it does because I feel a sense of positive connotation,
or an intrinsic vision that fills my mind with a spiritual calm.
A soothing measure that heals my stress like a healing balm.

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