More than the heart
it is the beat of the neurons
firing into the space between
That taps into the rhythmical self
in the movement of repetition
Here Lies moments of ascent
spiralling up and on and into what is
where you become
That is
what is to be
in the beat that rings
the rhythm of the feet of ascent
Tapping into the eyes
of those that have gone astray
the sight can go to staggering heights
Our sights roll beyond the horizon
into the signs of that which is beyond
A thing to feel but never to know,
the beat of the rhythm of self
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