the real face

Colour comes to mind when one can find enough berries along a yellow line to simulate depth.


Spinning in place, waves with an individual face, turned up stream to fight the pace, of the life flow coursing around the point, where shape dictates form and structure is only found through change.


Ever lost and always seeking the way to aum, the intrepid warrior follows the embedded path, in the battle against imbalance, and returns to a sound and shape familiar by its continual repetition throughout the world of vibration.


When we find our world turned upside down, somewhere in the sky a bell will sound and the ripples of the passage are found to be, all that remains.


Separated as contrast defines the space but it's in the empty place where we find the real face.