Through the pit less depth of autumn’s movement.
Ahead of me lays a moment waiting for me to intercept..
In the past, thunder breaks silence’s echo against my soul’s window pain..
I shudder to recall what tumultuous isolation led me to this other side which I disdain..
In a world of rippling dreams.. we give and take nothing which is of any good it seems..
Insightful minds wander together through cosmic magic…
Yet egos trough leaves us torn apart… in the end it is all just tragic…
How must I escape from this grip… gripping me so lightly yet my body cannot even
Amidst my minds constant circling..
Alas meditation brings such long awaited tranquility..
But in the end.. this physical body surrenders again to its dimensional futility..
It is all about the matter which keeps us within…
Screaming to get out of this tight fitting skin.
The spirits which roam must laugh at us.. really..
Because they glide along so unmasked… so smooth and do so “free”ly.
By Sepi Ghafouri (c) October 3, 2009