In the depths of my own creation,
I’ve fallen, shadows spinning threads of despair,
Broken and scattered, endlessly I plunge,
The ghost of my non-being dances near.
In the chasm of darkness, vast and unending,
I fear the final meeting, dread the fall,
But amidst the chaos, amidst the veil,
I see—there is no end, no final call.
I can fall forever,
Waiting for the end to embrace me,
Or I can heed the wind's soft whisper,
And let awareness flow like a sacred stream.
The air, a gentle lover,
Holds the shape of my soul,
The fall’s momentum,
A wave riding the boundless sea.
My heart, once captive, bursts forth,
Emerging from its prison, transcending the mind,
It takes the lead, guiding the way,
Though my hand grasps to wrest control.
The heart’s whisper says,
“Rest, there’s no need to fight.
Trust in this gentle journey.”
Its words dissolve my worries,
Carried away by the breeze,
I close my eyes, embraced by surrender,
Finding solace in faith’s serene release.
Opening them, astonished,
I find only peace,
Joy like the still pool beneath a waterfall,
Where water envelops me, and my body
Releases its hold on the soul
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