Finding Peace
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innner silence
The MAN
-THE SPIRIT-
- THE SEED
All dwell in the same abode
In the temple
where they are ripened
to be born -
Conditioned in holding tanks.
THE swishing of moving waters
gentle memories
conditioned in silence.
in holding tanks that were replicas
of wombs.
gentle memories from the world
where angles fluttered.
Imaginations are contagious
we all had the same dream
The MAN
- The spirit-
- The seed
delivered unto the
vastness of judgement
hated femininity-
no earthly peace.
When man has the gift
in spite of you,
You insult his dignity.
No peace on this plain-
Your haughtiness,
your naughtiness
naughtiness is too
of a word nice -
maybe babies are- the word
Strange, is better.
The MAN
- The spirit-
- The seed
There is something about the lips -
Lips,shaped like
(pictures I have seen)
of cherubs mouths.
But still we have not perished.
All imaginations
could not bear witness
to the same whatever.
someone is sick
caught some disease
came from poverty and
blossomed like a lily in a
cesspool pond.
Hearts seeking
solace inside
The sweethearts
the clean-hearts
deep immersion
where no pain dwells
where the well disciplined
well guided-thoughts
are ushers in my temple.
The inner silence where -
No thoughts run ramped
My peace of mind-
my saving grace-
from the world i have to face.
The flute talks the
flute is my guide
I am still. Just still.
CLEAN-HEARTS
INSIDE-
WHERE
THE INNER
SILENCE RESIDES ...
and no
creature be despised
neither
The MAN
- The spirit-nor
- his seed
Copyright © Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2014
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