Bored and the mind seems idle.
But when idle, more thoughts fiddle.
Not a moment in quiet,
when thought does not peace disquiet.
Always there is a murmur, a whisper.
Like a vagrant, does it caper.
Without thought, no search for destination
With thought, no place called destination.
Thoughts try to attain the thoughtless,
trying to attain peace, aimless.
Finally when peace does arrive,
will thoughts from it arrive?