The Perpetual Motion of Beautiful Chaos

As we collapse into these bodies,

words falling out of our minds,

seeking refuge in the solace,

of all things divine,

for truly who am I,

save a vibration of the divine,

took a walk through the rice fields,

found two butterflies in love fluttering by,

why do I deny you,

in the name of some unseen doctrine,

how ignorant a man must I be,

to not see that you are indeed God constant,

therefore to deny you,

would be to deny God,

& who am I,

to deny God,

within & without all that is you is holy,

you are so different there’s no equivalent explanation,

there is only this everlasting moment,

of perpetual motion,

a realization,

that when faced with is enough to humble any man,

my own ego is my worst saboteur,

I see so clearly from this balcony where I stand,

there is no grand plan,

there is only this infinite moment,

in perpetual motion,

within our collective existence,

how selfish am I,

to think for even a moment,

that I am in any way any different,

than these butterflies or this rice terrace,

I think,

therefore I am,

I think,

maybe God has no plan,

it’s a Beautiful Chaos that we are in,

music to our ears drums harmonics & violins,

all part of our collective human symphony,

same orchestra just played with different instruments,

I wish for nothing more,

than to collapse in your brilliance,

to collapse in your arms as an act of spontaneous unity,

would be the biggest relief I’d ever receive as an experience,

I’m laughing, I’m crying, there are tears upon my smile,

ecstatically enraptured & freely captured, it’s magic,

no church can teach this, these birds are our sermon,

such an inspirational sadness, such a glorious madness,

it’s madness to resist you,

it’s as futile as a bank that attempts to resist a river,

deliver me in euphoric waterfalls,

I humbly accept this gift let’s be delivered,