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Chitter, chatter, what's the matter?
Suzie's lamb is on the platter.
That was why they made him fatter.
Let go now of all this patter.
Keep your thoughts in line, no scattered
lines of mind a-racing.
Oh, how silly.
I'm going to stop talking now.
What you will hear is the silence of my voice.
What you will not hear (be grateful)
is the roaring wind of my interior voice,
which never stops (never say never);
it is my constant companion,
commenting on all that I see and do,
all that I am.
No, wait.
If that interior voice sees all and hears all,
does that mean it is God?
Have I hit on something here?
Will this idea take me anyplace
but straight to the loony bin?
Chitter chatter, what's the matter?
I think I just found out.
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