Tired

Tired
We are
Running
Like Olympians on a track
Except we don’t know where we’re from
Or where we’re going because it doesn’t
end.
Domesticated rodents on a wheel,
We are frantically trying to get to the
end.
Now the end becomes the beginning again
And our circles spin faster and faster around us
The world blurs past us
Scandalously streaking by
And we miss is as it passes

What have I done to make myself
So tired?
My thoughts exhaust me
Swirling around in the atmosphere of my consciousness
Never condensing into something tangible
I grasp at the vapors
And clench the nothingness. It makes me
Tired.
To sleep, to find peace
Why does the quiet seem so loud?
Silence
We try to find silent solitude but this static follows us
As a shadow more defined even as the light grows brighter

Where is rest?
Is it a place? Can we go there?
Is it a state? Can we find it within ourselves?
Should we wait for it? Or try to catch up to it?
We can’t handle our troubled spirits
For very much longer
Slumber doesn’t seem to satisfy

Close us up like flowers at night
There is no morning glory until you do
This spinning wheel, this turning world
Too fast for too long
Take us to the motionless center
To the eye of the hurricane
To the middle where it stops
To where you are