Beware


Beware

Releasing of the chaotic world

Photo by Tony Yakovlenko on Unsplash

Mass confusion spills — a flood of fractured mirrors — each shard a scream,
every echoed lie we almost believed. Chaos unleashed — a serpent slithering thought — twisting calm into panic, clarity into fog.

Anxiety breeds fear — breeding further the fury — misled into silence — the kind that howls inside your chest.

We admit it. We name the storm. And still it grows — a cyclone of belief,
disfigured, unrelenting.

Until — a breath.

A pause.

A moment of stillness between the waves.

We break the chain, witnessing the illusion. We rise, not above but
through it.

The Mind Reclaims Its Power
We are not the storm.
We are the sky that holds it.

The architects of thought, not the prisoners.
Dismantling the scaffolding of inherited fear — stripping away the rusted beams of false narratives.

Each breath is a hammer — Each truth is a chisel.
We carve space where once there was only noise.

We are the silence, speaking louder than panic.
The stillness that unravels the lie.

Reconstruction
From the rubble of distortion, we build.
Not walls, but windows.

Not cages, but corridors — leading inward, leading upward.

We are not broken.
We are breaking free.

~Ani Po


Much gratitude to those who take the time to read, ponder, and allow the inner workings of themselves to come forward. Grateful for the feedback, love shared, and, more importantly, the Dance with Inspiration. Deep Peace.

Joseph Lieungh

Photo by Javardh on Unsplash

We Hold the Line


We Hold the Line

With Stillness that Listens

Image created using CoPilot

Entering the silence of the day
With darkness falling around us
wherever we go.

We carry the hush like a lantern,
glow softening the edges of thought,
Each breath a step deeper
into the unseen.

Drumbeats murmur in the distance,
Songs of ancient lineage
inviting us further
into the unknown.

We hold the Line.

We allow ourselves to witness something greater —
Others are clawing their way through
strongholds of yesteryears,
and Mother rebirthing
as it unfolds.

We hold the Line.

Laughter breaks out —
a sudden spark,
as if we’ve become a whole village
carrying on a debate
as old as time.

Singing to a new day,
observing both sides of every coin.
Singing a brightened heart back into life,
beating in rhythm
with the natural pulse of the universe.

We hold the Line.

And when the silence returns,
We do not fear it.
We become it —
a stillness that listens,
a breath that remembers,
a light that remains.

~Ani Po


Much gratitude for this week’s prompt. Very timely in the collective vibes that we are channeling through. Thank you, Paroma Sen and Scrittura, for holding the line.


Much gratitude to those who take the time to read, ponder, and allow the inner workings of themselves to come forward. Grateful for the feedback, love shared, and, more importantly, the Dance with Inspiration. Deep Peace.

Joseph Lieungh

Photo by Javardh on Unsplash