Where will I
find it
From whence does
it flow
When will the
essence of it strike my soul?
Wasted my months
not in pursuit of its fold
Then was I
drab-caught buried in busyness
Called out and
dragged in, in pathways of systems
Parsley and thyme
all ribbings of salt ice
My poached life
seasoned with deathly coldness
The call of the
silver sea brought my heart out to find it
When flickers of
beacon fires raise my horizon
I see and I
know, and I am where it is found
Following from nothingness
where simplicity’s crowned
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