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Passion lost
drowned in the mundane
the apparent necessary
the apparent obligations
the calls and the meetings
what more time with the beloved
and time in self-retreat
bounded by insidious duties
limited by the body, time and space
unable to tap into inner sanctuary
whence is a Now probable
where there is no invasion of space.

As if disappeared ā€“ life within
the spirit within
dwelling in weariness
as if drained
yet unnoticed
until awaken from slumber
and then realised
the inner world
suddenly weakened.

What seemed previously fury
now turning dry from what was before
not that there is complain
but when can a moment come
one moment, at least
to breathe a little
to awaken what is within
in rejuvenation
the passion that was set aside
out of dis-prioritising.

A break unto the sequence
the routine ā€“ they call it
as much as each individual occurrence
is unique on its own
yet without the call of its own
falling off appointments
disengaging communications
where there the little opening
to nurture the baby spirit?

Nested in Holiness
moulding each processes
allowing the intervals
of the inner and the outer
balancing in itself
not that time and space is a constraint
but integrity is the key
not that responsibility is amiss
but nurturing within is revitalising.

If not how else to function
liken to a drag of corpse
without life
on the face of a faint smile
worn-out eyes.

What would you rather have
the reside in heaven
in that immense peace, joy, wisdom and love
in some creativity of some sort
of a gift only bestowed on you
to move amongst the humdrum
as the dead
flowing with the river of a false death?

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