We touch the one who is our own true source

We do not need to fear a loathsome thought
They travel through our minds and then move on
Perfect peace of mind cannot be bought
Do not replay these thoughts for we will grieve.

If one day we feel of little worth
Who are we to judge and so condemn?
Do we think we are unduly cursed?
The underlying peace does still remain

Our central core can always be re-found
In silence, music or the human voice
In such rhythm and melody   now bound
We touch the One who is our own true source

Let all float by without the need to seize
Rumination is to blame for much unease