Photo by Darius Bashar on Unsplash
Three six five days older,
Three six five steps closer.
Closer to reaching the summitless peak,
The quest for truth, never truly over.
Doing the work, turning knowledge into wisdom,
Eye continually widens, clarity of vision.
Discerning what is fact from what is fiction,
Heart opening to Mother Nature's rhythm.
Three six five, a prison of conformity,
Three six five, the truth is calling me.
Calling out, yearning for freedom;
Answers which awaken inner dormancy.
Life's beauty flourishing before my eyes,
Fabricated layers being exposed as lies.
The lies, charades, masks; all fading away,
The final curtain call, shedding portrayed guise.
Three six five, of honouring flow,
Three six five, surrendering, letting go.
Buoyed by waves of authenticity,
Source's vast ocean, I continue to row.
The narrow march of regiment, chains cast aside,
Divorcing from uniform, Intuition is my guide.
A new story being written, the plot is unknown,
The words falling freely, an authentic landslide.