The silence is pushing words
right out of my head.
Exorcising fear and dread.
I might choose love instead, instead.

The ego restless, stirs in sleep,
it doesn’t know how wide, how deep
this love that will not let me go,
For ego feels the cold winds blow.

No argument is mounted now
to soothe the ego’s feverish brow.
Instead I pull it close to me
in order that I am set free.

Vicki Woodyard