things
grow
up
and
down
and
sideways
and

and growing makes them

and plea

and hurts

in ecstacy

and leave

traces of wonder

and sometimes

partly

die.

yet we revive (with) each day
with each step
with each breath
that brings us forward

it is for us that we seek for our nerves to tremble for our bones to tremble

and vibrate
at the taste of our moments.

synchronisity becomes

louder

   bigger

practice, growing in practice, becoming practice, evermore the wanting to achieve the best

   self

one as many being one can be.

It’s love, isn’t it?
Really ...just... this
   simple.

Love being formed,
slowly,
(no rush)
no matter we are all,
always partially

   leaving.

bloom