Rhythm of Self

Stare at ceiling,

hair spreads on bed sheets

like snakes slithering

on silk ground.

Walls crumble down,

lost within

a duststorm.

Shroud settles, fades;

a flat earth

marked by horizons,

an empty universe

blinking above.

Soothing;

I find peace in solitude.

Stand up,

dancing gently on toes

like poised ballerinas,

gentle breeze blows hair.

In tune with the rhythm

of my beating heart,

the inhales and the exhales;

got my groove back on,

energised, prepared

to take over my life.

~

This poem was first published on Steemit.

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