Flow..

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A quick poem.

Submitted: November 23, 2011

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Submitted: November 23, 2011

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There is an immeasurable flow of splendour

Running with the fervor and persistency of a babbling brook,

Cool stream covered by a shroud of interlocking sycamores,

Their branches like fingers interlaced, shielding their beloved,

Substance more precious than all others,

From the harsh fullness of that which is sunlight,

Instead allowing only fleeting moments,

In which the water twinkles, reflecting mirror images

To any being who wishes to gaze

So does the inexpressible joy flow through those who allow

Like the gentle waters

When one abandons all former thoughts and preconceived notions

Of what it means to be

Decimate!

All influences on the expressions you utter

Erase them from memory!

They are but blinders forcibly placed to your eyes

Creating chaos, havoc, distorting and rerouting the natural waterways

Instilled in you by Nature herself

Damming them up according to the whims of the general consensus,

That faceless, nameless body composed of legions

Of the horribly confused animal called, “human”

Let no behemoth alter your trajectory!

Oh the bliss one may find

When the soul is permitted to wander

When the dams are broken down, and elixirs

Follow courses which are undeniably all their own

When expression is expression and creation rings pure

A new-found state of wonder in which to dwell perpetually

Making it his home, by having no home at all

When all existence is prey

Without a moment’s hesitation

Yes! Not even the batting of an eyelash!

To an inquisitive mind, artful operator, free form expressionist

To the one who raises no qualms in his own direction

For here, no ground is holy; all is fair play

To ponder, probe, and depict,

And ultimately embrace without fail

To the one who follows inspiration to the ends of the earth

And cares not if what results strikes beauty in no heart but his own

Knowing that beauty resonates nonetheless

When one has reopened the ambrosial ancient estuary

And the spirit peers out at the Universe

As a newborn opening his eyes for the first time

Howling in delight, with undertones of pure dismay

Taking heart in the knowledge

That he has a place in it all-

A location occupied with purpose!

One flowing with this freedom, this comprehension, this divine acceptance

Can be simply and absolutely described:

A mind unconstrained.


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