Can I barely see the light within? Can I really string along the gestures of thought? What has become of the greatness of notions?

Where are the enlightenments of the night? Do I really bring forth the graciousness of what is and string along what was? When will, what will be, stop taunting Me to become not Me?

Beside the still waters of what and why. Rather, the mysteries of light, than the stillness of development. The existence of who I am is just a figment of my imagination. Where do I exist? I exist here where I am and everywhere I am. I develop the light, no it generates through me. In this vessel, it protrudes through the air as breath itself.

Stop to wonder what is, no time. Time is a matter of idea… So is race… So is Man, And Woman, and factual of life. We are to be who we are in order to be who we are. Never to come, but now… never to was but now.

Stop for a moment in time, is just a figment of the developer to control what is for what they want to be. Stand in your vessel like you have no fear; like you have no competition, but let the energy force that you are be used to dance.

Dance.