Some informal words I read
They sound cool and carefree
They strike my mind like an hour hand of a clock.
I fulfill my burden of language
Too generic is the thought, but it is not same if elevated.
Like flowers growing in the wild
The words lead to another and keep formulating.
The track of awakening is a journey.
Words meditate into silence
That silence becomes a soul singing true blessings.
Among the stars and daisies, for everything
That wakes up and is like a blooming miracle;
Time stretches like a fire rising in the open jungle.
Informal words are not chained
They are like a rare species
Endangered and a true specimen.
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