Moving foward
Onto the path
What is felt
What is known
What is told
What has
To be lived
As a matter
Of lifting up
My soul
Its potential
Its prosperity
Its prophesied plan
And contract too
I am tired
Of moving forward
Stepping forward
Working constantly
In favor of my soul
Forgetting
Some times to live
I feel broken
In this constant
Movement
As a soul nomad
It has to stop
I am so fully detached
I cannot feel home
When I am constantly
Running, racing
Against my ‘soul clock’
I begged for rest
I pleid for stillness
Silence in my life
Being
Into nothingness
Sure, I decide. At last
I have chosen…
I can’t see one more Banana box
to put my stuff in… (It’s the fourth moving into a new home in one year and eight months…????????)
Ps: less time, less universal input, less posts…
Irmgard????
