THOUGHTS

Racing through the corridors
Like liquid molten lava
Chasing through any open doors
As if to capture something
Maybe if they will slow
Then there will be room for more

Tiptoeing through fragrant meadows
With a breeze gently lifting the petals
Rippling softly as the river flows
As if to caress the shore
Not concerned as much with destination
But with the knowledge the source holds

Glowing and pulsing points of light
Like a star vibrating in the atmosphere
Ubiquitous whether morning or night
A tranquil force that pulses
Resolute and persistent it shines
The burning core is lustrous and bright