I
imagine a mind spinning through truths. To see has become
an
urge, surging through intentions. It pinches soul to witness
for
solutions, where pain subtracts initiative. To speak an
extant
language is to feel closure; whereas, to speak an extinct
language
is to feel ridiculed. So we speak of music, ever to
stream,
swimming through tsunamis. Bolt for hinges, bathed
in
sunlight, before personality splits a groove. This is more a
future,
to maze through moments, speaking, “This is my cup.”
Knowledge
is a tree with deep roots. Wisdom is a sky filled
with
chorus; and Understanding is a web with multiple keys.
We
watch for wild roots; but never to extract, but rather, to
cultivate;
for mirrors plummet through our souls, ever to reach
our
minds, surging through our presence. Collect that which is
good,
ever to thirst for diamonds, musing upon koan pearls. We
often
love without sight children that must pass through; thus,
we
suffer the young children. Be equipped with this mindset;
mining
for treasure troves, forgiving for the grace of peace; but
what
for anger, a village of intensities, a freedom that comes
naturally.
Feel to release; for such vibration bends a countenance,
ever
to suffocate freedoms. We love for a love pure is design, a
human talisman, more
than worthy of Divinity.
