Giving up this need to understand
where all sorrows comes from.
How to explain those battles
fighting themselves,
Endlessly eating up
precious life force energies.
In the dance
I remember the song
of the rivers natural flow.
In staccato, the call for direction
where the hunter knows to find food.
In chaos, giving in to the forces of gravity,
trusting its pull to surrender
heaviness to nothingness,
where the lightness of lyrical
spreads its wings of freedom
that still the mind
into Being.
