I’m surging fantastically on ahead, again.
Pushing mountains out of the way
without changing pitch or rhythm.
Swaggering the crooked path,
collecting all the treasures I view.
Scouting for brilliance in the mundane,
relishing the ridiculousness,
excavating subtleties
with a nonchalant shoulder shrug.
Effortlessly putting bees in bonnets
and sponging all the ‘SHINE’.
A Magician with a Shaman’s Soul,
traversing echoes and frequencies
out of sight and touch to most.
Making Harlequins out of Finger-pointers,
my safety net is only ever used as bait.
Inside the Totem. Slipstreaming
your confusion effortlessly through.
Grabbing the tail of the impossible.
We were never born to bow our heads
except in the knowledge and horror
of wasting the Magic birthed with Life.
The flow is to be channelled,
individuality and uniqueness
to be honed and encouraged.
It’s the only way to properly blossom
and fulfillment is always just there waiting
upon the other side of the despicable crowd.
Source