You are my less travelled.
You are my vastness.
A wonderment deeply engraved.
You are to sight, slumber.
You are to dawn, night.
You are to the mind, thoughts of bewilder and awe.
“The problem wasn’t soley the storm, rather the fear of it. The fear of feeling the cloud pass though ones being. What the gusts take away and what it gives.”
Nourishment rests within the cloud. Moisture seeps into dry essence.
Chaos of weather stirs a stagnet breath.
The storm bears down upon a soul heaving. The blade within pierces through breathless air. Raining upon essence, newness of life.
“Truth lays within, behind reflections.”
Rythms entrance the soul. Slumber seeps into verities essence.
In labor askew musings emanate.
As the sole paces into deep forest, lost in hazes of color, so the soul slumbers to moments unbecoming.
Awake!! Remove the cloaked memories. No longer fear your own silence. No longer deprive self of verity passing through the souls essence.
Hear the pressing of silence upon upon your being and toil with night no longer.
Is it the coldness within, that creates the coldness without?
The same affections that lure you, injury you.
The same trust that brings you to openness creates lasting scars.
Is the world that’s grown colder, or we that grow colder to the world?
My greatest reflection of self and truth lay upon stone.
Exposed through battles.
Made alive through fear.
Able to hear silence by the outward ear closing.
Seeing truth while the physical eye closes to all that’s tangible.
Perceptions change depending upon where the sole paces.
Granting the soul freedom to hear wisdom through endless formations upon stone.