Soliloquy
the wind on my face
Sitting on the quay
the flying birds embrace
Ort
the famished can eat a rind or a peel
Leftovers thrown, given no thought
morsels together, but make a meal
Paradox
in the distant realm there is but one dimension
Let out the soul - break open the locks
believe and split wide open the horizon
Zumba
heaven, hell and earth
Inhibitions thrown away far
cosmos giving birth
Paradigm
we are at the end of the reel
The mind shall some day find
that the heart has started to feel
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