What a rush.
The world stands still as the soul separates itself from its shackles and soars towards the heavens, channeling Orvilles and Wilburs as the breeze ripples its embodiment in joyous applause, weightless and buoyant in pious freedom whose purity is matched only by those who dared not to dream. Fading glimmers on a sea of darkness invoke one man’s pride and another’s disgust. The world reveals itself as an expansive playground, empty at the hands of a child. Throbbing veins carve through both forms of creation, pumping limitless energy into a powerhouse of causation. The soul lingers in amazement until a sea of mist obliterates perspective and refocuses the mind into another world.
Forgotten are the worries of millions and lost are the cries of the hopeless. Clarity reigns and purpose is condensed. Peace controls and the mystery unravels; we must go on.
Enlightenment becomes a curse, spawning obsession and thoughts presumed unanswerable. So scarcely have we experienced an idea that lends itself towards a higher purpose, for in order to pursue we must remove ourselves from frivolous generality.
The moment is fleeting, individuality is consumed. Once again the soul returns to its shackles, pumping limitless energy into the black hole of human ingenuity, pausing only ever so often to gaze at the stars…
and dare to dream.
