Journey of Ubuntu

It was lush, not than so dry

We spoke a hush, prepared to fly

The fruit was crushed, I passed the bowl

Loosing much, to gather whole

We dreamed a shift

Of phase, this gift

To wake awareness

In primal myth

Freed to honest form

Feeling full release

From fear and separation

Death of access, peace

This journey’s rhythm echoes

In songs of our creation

Each of our lives set chasing

That holy syncopation

.pete rezac