Where Words Reach Their “Limit”

Walking around

Hearing that sound

Of Silence.

The birds chime in

The Peace Begins

To shape into a Soulful Tone.

The Sun beats on my head

As I start to shed

My past through to present.

Present to thoughts of Future

Wishful Thinking

Never shrinking

But Building up my Spine.

I reflect on what’s mine.

So much more than fine

But here is where words reach their limit.

I can say how I Taste it

But the Taste has a Soul of its Own.

It tries to be shown

To The Moment I Own, in English

But my own heart needs not to hear words.

It Feels The Vibration

Soaring through Intuition

Into Space, time, Ambition . . .

Swerving through My Spine

Like a fine wine

Dining on contemplation.

Those birds remind me

Where I am.

I Am Back.

Back Again.


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