Surviving Aura

Praying eyes catch the glinting sun under skies,
Angry and swollen with the promise of violent storms,

Leave alone old whispers and listen to defiant cries
That talk of surviving auras found in the remains of chaos,

As a chorus multiplies in sympathy with every aura that dies,
We roll with the rage and try to liberate the spirit with empathy,

The oneness of truth and of the being and knowing always lies 
In a decisive agreeing and an acceptance towards growing.


J.Bibi