Blooming,
From his forest of thoughts
And the beauty of it was
Words were still travelling inside
Like it should have been
Preparing for the journey
With a silent commitment
Yes, time had stayed on
But only in some quarters
Like an important reminder
That where had to be the path
Speaking to themselves
Singing in unison with soul
Sometimes hammering
At times chiselling
Thinking now consciously
Of balance and rhythm
To stay on where it had to be
Yes, thoughts were taking shape
And a life was in making
With elements it had craved for
From his forest of thoughts
And the beauty of it was
It came with a curious attachment