A breathe that pulses with their light, the miracle of their existence shining a world away
Lay long, onto the ground, spread yourself long, clean onto the earth, keep pace with your star, sure, bright and shining with brilliance visible worlds away.
There is a compass inside each
weathered, black with the sand of time.
Buried in a drawer, in the packet of our soul.
The beauty of it, in its case
the rhythm of the world absorbed when touched.
The world, our daily lives, may seem real and predictable;
such is the focus on our routine to meet our needs.
Has there ever been a day without one small, unexpected item, thought, idea or person that came into your life? Right smack in the center of your oh-so-well planned-out routine?
The mantra...
I do not want to pray for things that are shallow, or popular.
I do not want to pray for things that are fleeting and satisfy in the finite.
Pray for the infinite, indefinite...