“I am weary of personal worrying,
in love with the art of madness.”
― Jalaluddin Rumi
Thrown back into powerlessness,
a spacious place to dwell.
Immersed in a sea of forgiveness,
absorbed by a transforming swell.
Galloping through pastures of freedom,
into the acceptance of being,
while winds of contentment are blowing
watching resentment flee.
I would like to exist here forever
where redemption songs can be heard,
my eyes still on the horizon,
no breath of love disturbed.
I can hear the applause of heaven,
as the Universe sways in glee,
and the stars are transmitting signals
to eradicate foreboding debris.