Life & death can seem poles apart;
Even though one to the other is drawn as far
as songs that spark
- Like swords on guard -
From the heart;
Drums that start
The thunder’s art.
Reality sinks in as anchors!
Being grounded is the first step to change actions;
The essence that transcends the widest ranged factors.
In fact, if its chain was just traced backwards,
We’d find at its root a mirror that aims at us.
No other act takes as much or can claim matched rush.
With this great act of courage we gain access
To freedom that controls the sails of our main axis,
For sincerity which for the future we paint maps with;
& find seeds of peace innate in the grain’s harvest.
The mystic bonds
Of rhythmic force
Manifests as both:
& hitting drums.
In the same moment;
The instant’s source.
High enough to see the zones with hidden ponds.
While reason draws
Streams & flows:
Energy from digging to seek the pulse revealed as such
Eternally open, these cosmic seas we search.