Is it really possible?
For the human mind to be void of thoughts. That you just sit with a clear head, a free head.
Not tormented, just wild, free and light, very light. Easy to be enchanted, easy to be stolen, easy to be bewildered by the sound of birds flapping their wings as they sing their good morning songs, by the beauty of flowers as they soak with early morning dew, by love.
A mind that only knows verbs, go, do, speak, love, laugh, run.
But my mind choose to be a woodmill, loud, heavy, incessant, running always.
Bothering itself with how, why, what, when.
I want a light mind but mine chooses to be a volcano.