Serene, distractions gone, alone.
Silence holds the meaning,
while music holds the soul.
The sun reaching desperately for the grass, alive and thoughtful,
While the trees reach for the sun like a ring for a finger.
But where they meet their tainted wants refuse to be satisfied,
so they keep on existing never content.
The shadow, that together they cast,
a reminder that innocence cannot forever stay,
no longer as a child.
The best thoughts from under the hat and the mind of one,
a single individual,
who understands like the silence of the dawn, long forgotten.
These thinking’s free from critique, the wrecking ball of meaning.
Sometimes not purposeful, but the result hardly varies like a single row of carrots.
The leafy green tops one after another just waiting.
The birds’ song,
a beacon telling a story.
Ideas going, going.
The melody of a song, but it is sad without a beginning or an end,
Just going.
The best of the idea,
in the shade in the melody,
not at the end, but not at the beginning just there.
All it takes is a single look,
a moment of revelation to change all.
Alone on a bench, thinking, in the melody of a song, endless.
No one else is needed,
comprehension is hard to come by like a vein of pure gold, undisturbed.
Reminiscing on days that no longer hold meaning for the present.
Forget, but do not stop remembering.
The days belong to all, but only some thinking’s do.
That is why the company of one will not fail.
But the company of two can hold back potential, if misunderstood.
But someday the thinking’s must break out like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon.
They must be sung out on hills and mountains.
Proclaiming the intelligence they hold.
Thoughts, no longer afraid of the wrecking ball,
will in moment of revelation change the existence but never beginning and never ending.
For now they must wait until the world is ready,
for a new kind of different.