Down the tube of existence the world turns around my soul
I am the destiny of the wind in the trees
The universe pleasures itself voyeuristically
Down the artery of my time
The birds vicariously dance on the wind
To telescope my ecstasy into the cosmos
The flock of birds seems chaotic in their cluster
A kaleidoscope focuses my heart from a distance vein
There in the mist is perfect harmony
I am instantly aware of wind and its vortexes
The birds are not chaos they are punctuation
In the perfection of the moment
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