Background noise from the Big Bang can sometimes be heard,
Like a light, high-pitched sizzle recessed in the mind.
The sub audible clutter adrift in the brain
Can remain unattended, but there is some gain
In Observing The Chatter because it’s designed
By our guardians to offer what is preferred.

Pure sound gives us some focus when we meditate
To the lull of a waterfall or singing birds.
It engulfs all the cosmos in one single tone
And is translated rightfully to each his own.
When I notice that chatter has turned into words,
Are they those of my spirit? Should I concentrate?

Sometimes it’s my own chatter that gets in the way
Of receiving what should come directly from God.
I can tell somewhat easily which voice is mine
And which one is all knowing, more loving and kind.
Do I strum to his image as he gives a nod?
If I’m sure it’s his chatter, then it’s a good day.