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Sitting down to write a poem with a blank slate at my hand, I do not think of traveling or of some foreign land, I never jot down happy thoughts of flowers and blue sky, To think of all the good times I really have to try, When I am sitting with my mind and just the two of us are there, There's the underlying sense of anxiety and despair, I push the thoughts of peace and love to the front end of my mind, But whenever there are good thoughts the bad aren't far behind, I make a conscious effort everyday when I wake up, To always see half full when I'm looking at the cup, There will always be some bad days but some great ones there to follow, As long as I get out of bed and remember not to wallow, Today the sun is shining brightly and the air is crisp and clean, So I'm going to put this pen down and find myself a different scene, I plan to walk amongst the flowers and think of the good times, To have the sense of presence to hear the church bell's chimes, Living in the moment is the only antidote, When it's just you and your mind and feel surrounded by a moat, Your presence and the now is your only bridge to land, So I'm putting this pen down with the blank slate at my hand.