As it drips, we admire

Imagination. The infinite. For anything can arise through silence, meditate upon this privilege.

As a singe ripple in a vast ocean, only one can analyze the rhythm that ultimately underlies the hearts notion.

What a vacancy and irony, is it not?

That we solemnly express ourselves in a world that is adorned ever so vibrantly.

Yet affixed with obsessions, perspectives, possessions and never learning the underlying lesson.

Laying within a prism of the everlasting attempt to decipher the schism before it breaks through.

Alas it it present, the distress that can never be fully depleted, for it is seeded deep within, as it was before within your kin.

This is no sin, alas we are destined to emit a specific frequency, that attracts the likes of you unto the likes of me.

A story if you will, one that certainly fits the bill, of an ever so destructive humanity that continues to remain still.

In time and believe that everything appears to be fine, at least that’s how it appears in the black and white that is massively regurgitated.

Now imagine, for it is infinite, if you would simply dwell on this thought for a second, that we are no mere syllable, this is the arena in which we engage to fulfill our purpose, who chose, no one knows, rendered fit to decisively configure the reality from a will unopposed.

That is thee as it is me.

Stalwart and engulfed in a mild version of misery.

Why is it that as I drift blissfully into the everlasting grips of paradise, I awaken thrice.

Sue for peace as the pipe begins to ignite

The risen are walking among us and they shall not turn to dust.

Thank you for reading tribe. Please send your love by following the blog and sharing with friends and family.

As always, sending you Light through Love,


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