Every once in a while, there comes along a vision.
A vision that makes everything worthwhile.
A kind of clarity, and strength that makes the doable acts reverb through the fabric that usually just simpers to even our greater twines.
Once in a while, muscle memory collects in a reflex to better harmony than we’re used to. Where all of this is merely a calmer reflection of the creative reverb.
The creatrix of a smiling swerve.
In time, pragmatism will come calling. Aspirations will fall away like a twirling spectacle of conscious recalling from lucid memory in a haze of quiet contemplation.
Visions of virtue will settle for the mechanics of logic’s stumbling abodes.
But the measure sings to melody in the emotive matches and passion infuses on-song. Grace hums along.
The notion enacts its belong.
A steady accumulation to a rapid spectrum.
In the quotations of influence and ovations of understanding.
Unravelled opportune in providence’s propensity of boons.
A mind’s reflection in the moon, and all of its satellite sighs.
Reflexive
