Soul Time

The moment is the reward, a truth seeker would say

Others peer from the past, and for a future, they pray

Forcing the heart to plead, on behalf of body and mind

They are aligned with comfort, not the hard grind

The mind is fattened by a succulent past

While the soul endures a hard fast

Its nourishment is eaten away by time

The soul eschews moments past their prime

The soul is happiest bare and naked

It suffocates under the mind’s clothes, which are dated

They match props borrowed from the world, and we rarely win

In the game of true aspirations, happiness is innate and not a sin

It comes when everything is dropped

The soul reveals its blissful state, it’s fully stocked

It isn't an imaginary empty dot, in the sky

It’s eternal, in each moment where desires stop their cry