The Oasis

The oasis thrives within us, friend. Filled with possibility, hungry hearts come here to rest, seek comfort and be inspired.

Follow Your Rhythm

Follow Your Rhythm

Poetry, the rhythm of the heart dancing across the page, looking for its rhyme and pauses. Looking to be set free and do its great design, to inspire those souls who are listless and afraid, looking for their way out of the cave.

The Voice of God rings clearly through every traveler on the parth, seeking their way in this hub bub of activity. Their countenance swayed by their desire for rhythm, a beat, a song, a dancing sidebar, a rivulet of sound crossing their temple and arousing their desire to . . .

Rhyming does this to everyone, with great delight one might add. We are so pleased when we find that rhythm. Where was it yesterday when we were scouring about? Not close by initially, until that search for our hearts brought us there. We did well to locate it again, in all those pauses and syncopated rhymes begging for mercy, begging to be understood. Trust the great ones to bring it on home so all of us could enjoy rhyming more.

But wait till your heart finds its own tempo, then you’ll be singing along too, joining the orchestra as it were with its rhyme and tempo. The Great Creator, after all, is there leading the whole affair, just like the Universe, a symphony of delights. Orbs strewn about the great vacuum of space, but fixed in a perfectly repeatable pattern, following a rhythm that only He could order.

The Creator set yours too, you see. So you must find your pace and play it out. Because He meant for it to be part of the whole show, otherwise there would be an empty chair in that position where you were to sit and strike out that rhythm that is yours alone.

Okay, now we see how it works. Let’s do it and let our temp take the lead from here on in. Are you game? Well then, play it again Sam. It’s a poem after all. Ah yes, that’s the chorus. Take it on home now. Do what you want, but follow that beat. It’s yours to be savored and His to be enjoyed. No more sorrow or tears, only poetry. The poetry of the soul let loose on the Universe no less. Just let it flow. It’s yours for the asking.

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