No mud no lotus

I’ve noticed at the peaks of more than one sleepless night,

tiny pinpoints of profoundness start to tingle just right.

Cerebral connections created from chemicals conducting and my eager heart pumping equal parts neurosis and solid gold.

Just a few minutes passed manic until the insomnia takes it’s full flight.

Too many hours awake hits quick then boom! Motivation rises up again.

Wakefulness adorned with melancholy and fleeting moments caught amongst the chaos and fight.

At last, I am awestruck with relief so sweet; embracing harmonies of thanks that resonate.

There’s a burning so bright inside me that each footprint I take leaves nothing but sediments of inspiration.

This momentum is stolen from an array of compulsion, but navigating through dust left from the derange often provokes such meaningful change.

Like a lotus flower never taking root, unable to grow strong, because the mud is gone.

If purpose flourished, how could a little dirt be wrong?

Tempermant calm: I rest after two days long.