Can thoughts become aware of themselves?

Or are they but fleeting whispers in the mind?

A constant stream, a never-ending flow,

Of fears and hopes, desires and designs.

Can the brain be free of all problems?

Can it let go of its incessant need to solve?

For only a brain that's unburdened,

Can truly see the world and evolve.

Thought is fear, fear of survival,

And the continuation of pleasure's reign,

But where is fear without time, without others,

And without the prospect of gain?

It's in the emptiness, the stillness,

Where choiceless awareness can be found,

In the order of a mind at peace,

And in the harmony of a world unbound.

For only when the mind is clear, And the heart is free of strife,

Can we glimpse the truth of our being,

And the beauty of a boundless life.