Loving Arms

As an adult
you realize that focus, is the key ingredient.
When growing into these older, yonder, contradictory yet fonder years
love is a bounty made of bliss.
Let us not forget about these things
one often chooses to dismiss.
With technology and all of its disarray I do not even try to persuade.
I speak of loving and bountiful things.
It is what i mean and what i reside on.
This is not a marking or an arrangement,
but merely a poem i’m writing while listening to the beautiful music where I so longingly belong.
The wonderful wonder of life and its arrangements can seem like a blunder,
but there is no thunder to be disturbed of.
It is always organic to listen to the natural noises of the city with no limits
and the hills so quiet and serene.
When one thinks of tune and glory,
they often forget that theirs an ultimate story.
It does not require a badge or a trophy,
but pure happiness knowing you are loved and believing life is not a satyr,
like a chaser cat getting higher and higher.
Why would one feel the need to disturb things that aren’t even borrowed?
Almost as if something is lost or disturbingly controlled.
Like a complete fall of my inner essence that is mere meaningless
compared to the endless amounts of prosperity and profound structure that can really make a difference.
When somethings innate,
it should be trusted like a glove.
Red and golden touched like a dreary but delightful human being
one that goes on in this world like it’s a display
full of charm there is no need to alarm one with loving arms.