The Rhythm.

Ha. It feels absolutely beautiful, beyond words and measure
I flinch not now, to spit on all the illusions of the earth
For there exists not any surrogate pleasure
That can feed this Fire in the heart’s hearth !

All the wait, change, moulding intentions all along
Something lingered with the will to persist
Simple like a child’s words or a bird’s first song
I try not any more against the flow to resist.

With different faces for different people all day
Still not forgetting which mask fits whom
This work i do uncontended will now not stay
Ripping apart all facades and making more room.

Is this the absolute silence after the storm
In the wilderness, amidst chaos, the perfect pattern
As though emerging out and clings to the heart in absolute form
The never ending cycle, always revolves around the rhythm.