To the rhythm of
purpose I flow – I
don’t mind its incessant
driving, I’m not scared
of the undertow, but
when the clock winds down,
and I’m still expected
to move, not only step
by step, but they want a
groove, a smile, a positive
reminder, while I’m
fumbling out of time,
unable to dance without
a reason (syncopated
and jovial), a
heaviness descends
upon me.

When stuck
in the nothingness,
illusions from all
angles ravage my
wandering mind. I
need a beat to move,
a clock, an intention,
so what do I do when
purpose winds down to
the point where
I no longer feel
its ticking?

Superficial reminders
of what lies beneath
the surface are everywhere,
destroying the happiness
of sloth, cutting away
at our ability to
submerge into the lull
of being entertained
over the call of the
ordained voice within,
until we realign
with our worth-all-this-ness.

Because in the end,
we live in a cause and
effect world, where all
parts are working together,
feeding off of each
other, even when
we only see the
predator before us
and not the harmonious
balance of the divine
ecosystem – forgetting
that whether or not
we see it or feel it,
the clock of purpose
never stops ticking…
even if our usefulness
is in being eaten,
digested, composted,
and then grown anew,
there is always a
reason to be.


Featured photo via


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