Plain… as day.

Plain… as day.

Same ass day.

Over and over.

Done and done.

The race is for the swift…

The swift to judge.

To condemn…

To cast aside.

The hand that feeds some

is riddled with their teeth marks.

The turn of the tales… be el.

Ease into being all “S” on chesty.

Rush nothing…

At the pace of nature

even rapids take their time.

Make ours… worthwhile.

Earn more…

Earn titles…

Shake them off.

Greatness has no arrival line.

Often humble beginnings though.

Until the advent of wanton pride.

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This moment…
Free…
Free of… free from… free to…
We love. We’ve come… We’re true…
to the essence and aching bones.
We dance from the depths of our struggle
into a new light sans bubbles,
awaiting bursting.
Reality… simplicity… authenticity…
the slaking of our thirsting for greatness
in uncertain times and strangeness…
even amongst kin…
Pretense stings…
Leap into wins…
We’ve been weak before but we’ve wind in our wings.
We soar above thermals of turmoil
to our rightful space.
All else fails so true calling can prevail.
All else pales… comparison is futile…
So is hate.
Right on time comes the rain.
Right on time comes teacher and king…
when readiness is evident.
All life is God paraphrased.
All names are pseudonyms.
It is what it is.
The word is not the thing.
It is just what it is called.
What does it answer to?
What brings it forth?
What brings it back?
Perhaps we should just give thanks
and leave it at that.
This moment…
Free…
Free of… free from… free to…
Live gratitude.