The things that I see and touch and consume me;
the work that I must do,
the dinner that I must cook,
and the house that must be tidied
fill up the space in my mind.
And when I close my eyes,
all I can see is the bustle of things,
like a humming city, people and things to see and arrange.
So that it is even hard work to sit there and do nothing, -
to think of stillness,
because things come so ...