Rhythm And The Sky

​

There’s a rhythm I trust in my day,
A path where my feet find their way.
Each step is something I know,
That grounds me wherever I go.

 

But then comes the breeze of the wild,
The spark of a curious child.
I follow wherever it leads,
A pull that my heart has to heed.

 

I move with the plan and I fly,
Rooted in rhythm and into the skies.
I flow with the forms that I find,
With freedom and structure aligned.

 

Structure’s my steady song,
Guiding the dance all along.
But freedom paints outside that line,
In moments that live without time.

 

Each breath is a swing and a blend—
Of knowing, and not knowing when.
I follow the pulse, then I stray,
With both as the heart of my way.

 

I move with the plan and I fly,
Rooted in rhythm and into the skies.
I flow with the forms that I find,
With freedom and structure aligned.