Racing against the ‘soul clock’…

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
Some times to live

I feel broken
In this constant
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
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…


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