Sandwiched in an unthinking rolling
routine, dwindling mass of this frame-
the outer rigour, of hardening flesh
in shrinking freshness..

..quickening time pushing body
in lightning motion, ignoring the reverse pull
of an inner inertia-a lump of bloated heaviness
faintly breathing..

…a victimized heart handicapped
by lack of expression, unlighted spaces
of forgotten laughter, depression of tight-lipped
pressure closures, beyond any reasoning.

A vigorous spindle in steadiness betwixt
this pull and push ,it’s the threads of your
design, the fate –a bundle wound up ..

… in stillness it floats –the null
and the neutral, slowly unwinds, spinning
the delicate mesh of soul – part of your

Previous assemblies over births still
flashes in some remembrances, the ones
of the future too partly sensed in passing
thread’s continuum..

…Mission of unison, the whole
flower of soul needs to be in submission,
petals overlapping in small intersects,
to mystical stalk it fuses to be held ..

Held or dropped, it’s but offered
in the point of highest pureness, life’s origin…

Dismantled again, yet another stint
of bloom awaits, a b(g)rand new random design..

The Soul Spindle


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