Broken
[source]
(https://pixabay.com/photos/black-white-portrait-man-art-4812753/)
The river when it finds its way
among the rocks, it is not a flow,
but a self-acceptance
The question is neither of action nor reaction but its flow is a constant proclamation
Brush the silent yearning of the detached mountains
A fleeting life, no spectators, no dialogue
Yet it blooms as if longing has assimilated itself into color
Its fragrance does not demand an interview, it is complete in its being
Night Vast, silent, in its darkness
Flickering fireflies don't compete
They converse with the darkness
Small, feeble, but full of the dignity of their being
The cactus growing in the desert shivering in the heat
Many obstacles question its existence,
There is no one to observe,
Yet it remains vigilant,
As if existence free from all desire
Self-evident and we?
We too cannot stop because walking
is not a purpose,
It is a self-evident proof
That we are here, still.
Praise?
It may be an echo
But even if it isn't there,
The silence is not broken.
Existence Beyond witness,
Detached from praise, Yet still
Alive, Answering
Thank you so much for reading. Have a great day 😊🙏 @vikbuddy
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