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My Life As An Art


I do not wish to live a lifetime of prose,

Lacking in rhythm and metre,

I’d live life as a poem, eloquent passion,

Oh verse is so very much sweeter.

I’d write my life as a sonnet, perfect of form,

So rich and concentrated,

Lines loaded with meaning and achievement,

My ideals and reality mated.


For prose is naught but the language of mind,

Narrow and uninspiring,

But poetry is the song of the soul,

In pastures of ecstasy sighing.


I do not wish to talk my way through life,

Mouthing a meaningless mush,

I’ll sing from my heart of the beauty within,

Awaiting us fertile and lush.

I’d weave my spells, charms for life,

As lyrics and music combine,

To purify all, delight, inspire,

That our dreams and actions entwine.


For talking is naught but the chatter of apes,

It carries but little weight,

But if the Gods chant through our hearts,

We’d uplift each other’s fate.


I do not wish to walk my way through life,

Stumbling a pointless road,

I’ll dance my destiny, skipping with glee,

Through a creative mode.

With skill in each movement, sensuous limbs,

Describing kaleidoscope steps,

I’d leap to the highest, spin with the stars,

And flow into beauteous depths.


For walking is naught but the limp of the lame,

Treading the feet of each other,

But dancing’s a joy that frees the spirit,

That a partner may also be lover.


So much in life yet lies in store,

To be myself, to grow, be more,

To reach a finer, higher vibration,

For the greatest of arts is Self Creation.


From my book ' Messages are Dancing in the Rain'





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