The mind wanders

Nothing is what is seems
Or so they say
But what seems is what feels real
So then how can it be nothing?

My heart is aching
Ok so that is so trite
But its true
It feels like a boulder is pressing down
And it feels as real as birds swooping down the mountains

Will a touch assuage this
Or will a post do that?
Will a song lift the boulder
Or can a word put the balm?

None of which I know
Will comply and save
But this muscle and blood
Will be on till its
Time foretold

So while the heart continues to ache and pulse
The mind wanders in abandon
Floods the being with feelings not quite known
Masters say don't let it
But Masters did'nt account for the passion
That went the wrong way?

Here I am
Perpetually at cross roads
Should I go there or here?
The mind wanders yet again
And the journey is on
Till its designated time