Just being alive we\'ve made our sacrifice.
To find ourselves amidst the strive of survival in search of a universal symbol for our struggle, momentos of hope and a sense of renewal.
Only casualties emerge from this live rehearsal, we surface to take a role and put on a good show.
Playing our part in this carnival with the heart of a wounded animal.
Touched by all things physical.
Our dreams are an enchantment of starlight
passions in flight with light spilling over the horizon
catching a cool breeze of wisdom as the wave washes over our being. A spark in the dark shsdows of existence.
Yet we wait, for our vision to be realised to see with our own eyes
hopes unfolding.
In transition from becoming to belonging.
Instinct and feeling for what can be held and experienced.
These punctuation marks of living, breathing foundations of expression, that mould our impressions of resistance and persuasion
Conditioning our senses to predict sequences and effects.
Struggles and regrets.
Night time breeds freedom from the logic of reason. Liberty for dreaming, imagination riding wild on the wings of fortune.
Stirring winds whisper of a change in the heavens opening doorways to new dimensions.
Saying
knowledge growing from it\'s own meaning blossoms.
Clouds form and unfold like fashion in the ebb and flow of natural patterns.
Sensations build hypnotic waves of rhythm, pulsing to new heights of perception then breaking on the many splintered things of ambition.
Senses entangling twisting emotions through reflection and animation.
Spiralling again and again in a timeless evolution from something to nothing.