(Music: To speak of solitude - Brambles)

A stroke of hope

across pages of stitched-together scores

of notes too dark

to come to terms with a solution

you searched across pieces of verse

torn apart to dissolute

the abstract hue of purpose

lost to a rhythm

superimposed to the hum of life

backtracking

towards a point of no return

reclaiming the joys of expectation

turned to regret too easily, too often,

like a puppet of a mind chasing the present

and playing parts too eagerly remembered

while following the rules you never learned

a flow of rightness moving you along

same paths

circumventing

all the circles of a meaning

ironic

found in the midst of the continuous pursuit

of stillness

following the beat of nothingness within