Higher Thoughts

When I get awfully blue as one sometimes will,Â
And my whole way of living seems to be uphill,Â
When my thoughts are in turmoil,Â
And I pray for peace be still.
I clean a cluttered attic arrayed in shorts and such,Â
For the sight of all this work doesn't faze me much,Â
And soon I'm good and dirty,Â
Dust on everything I touch.
As a learned reader I have gathered stuff galore,Â
And piled it in a box or on a shelf or on the floor,Â
Until the moment I have time,Â
To file it in a drawer.
As order comes from chaos so my outlook changes too,Â
All my burdens seem to lighten and I'm no longer blue,Â
I learn the answers to my problems,Â
And what course to pursue.
For working in solitude a small voice you'll hear,Â
That's far too soft for the tumult of life I fear,Â
It's always there if you just listen,Â
Whispering serenely and clear.

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Comments
I like the self discovery in this. The physical act of decluttering also played with the imagery of clearing your mind. Very clever indeed my friend. Another good write xÂ
I'm with Gwen on this one. Me too decluttering is so therapeutic and completely feels better for the mind. Px