No dancing in Paris
The city’s heart beats not in steps but in silent rhythms. Bodies wander, vessels of untold stories, memories slipping like water in cupped hands. The mind, often a blindfolded traveler, senses truths and acknowledges the unfathomable in whispers.
Emotions, they stir, like subtle puppeteers, setting the stage in the shadows of consciousness.
The mind, a once dormant landscape, stirs to life. It calls to us, beckons us into deeper waters, to swim in the mysteries of being. Yet, here we stand, feet rooted, caught in the web of our own questioning.
In this In-Between, we ask ourselves – where now? The answer, elusive as a dream at dawn, seems to slip through our fingers. But listen – the river sings a quiet song, a lullaby of existence, whispering of our presence Everywhere.
In this revelation, a soft unclenching, a letting go. Our spirit, once caged, now takes flight, soaring beyond the realms of reason, into the vast, and boundless.