Dead cells are reborn like a phoenix,
A second rhythmicly ticks, a million is conceived.
Each waking day with a familiar self but not the same,
Each shedding bits but still remembering name.
Mysteriously holding on to self-consciousness,
Like a chord from heavens gate,
Like the ultimate gift of fate.
The moons of emotion are changing,
A lone wolf in the midst of falling trees.
Belief systems bending to perceived truths,
Strongholds of the mind are phasing.
I need somebody I can trust,
"It's just a phase," they say.
but life keeps changing,
To "phase" is a must.
Life's like a gentle wave crashing on the rocks of mind.
I am not the same even though I don't notice.
To stop change keeps the mind in hypnosis,
To stop phasing is to stop living.
imgsource
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