It is what it is and yet
Our soul presence sought to conjure a rhythm,
to dance upon the stage of space and time
but since light refracted in body prism,
mind could not translate the intended chime.
Caged in form, soul yet felt surge of love warm,
accepting contortions of this domain,
befriending silence, thus taming the storm,
with egoic fears and desires to rest lain.
Life as a dream continued to roll on,
so though accepting what will be will be,
presence tweaked heartbeats, with each breath reborn,
melding with the void, joyous and carefree.
Fickle fate has no hold on hearts demure ~
Come what may, stoic spirits will endure
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