I am not my words, Nor am I the letters from which they are formed; I am a beating drum, A cacophony, a riot keeping pace with mortal time; Spinning order thriftily, So as not to cheapen the divinely proclaimed language of the soul.
‘Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought: So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.’ - T. S. Eliot
~ I stir as the sun grazes the lines of my face The heart beats fast, a wardrum in its cage The song of doom boom doom echoes, the pain spins on its lace But I know that I'll move forward, For I'll flower, not stay the same ~
I woke up, still lost in a state of introspection I was in yesterday. Its really easy for me to be lost in my own head but despite it, I try to keep on focusing on the positive. Much love, light and blessings, Stay safe everyone Lyn 💜🙏
beating on the rough skins tummy to vibration ; the strum that actions your cutting heart wetting out for mammal i clown on the drums go to town vetting out the taughtless thought within you it's tough it is trough seeking you out your sputting heart a mation behind the curtain a certainty somewhere gulls creation your bird of weather your brimstone your ***** of feather your tell your chore and your wreckage yard I pass you a code to rive free your missive with glee you can mare yawn over into public with folds scruff and a sodden little battle cry
I drum for this I drum for your honest heart that you can be locomotion you can be domicile to yourself sparkhouse