Silence in the observation of struggle

Globally. Locally. Internally.

Our collective unknitting

Or is it that our own minds are not pretty?

Entertainers of wonderful thoughts?

Sensations of golden vibrations, with ripples of peace winds blowing through the mind's eye,

Can we feel them?

Tunneling a way to get away

Through light over power

Nimble stillness over pushing with force.

Our mind's eye

A source of peace within the storm.

Floating and coasting with the vibrations of thunder and wind

Patiently waiting for an unveiling of I

Our collective inner eyes, noses up, turned away

Pursuing after materials and pains

Our self, placing another cover over our own eyes

Leaving our spirits physically and spiritually blind.

A collective of lights

Detached from divine.