Circle on the dirt, pulse in the drum, night open like a scroll in the sun,

Wind in the ribs, gold in the gut, ember in the cauldron beginning to hum.

Roots in the heel bones drink from the core, old stones turning into warm light,

Low tide, sacral moon pulling on the shore, orange fire painting the inside.

Belly like a furnace slow burn, no rush, keep it sovereign, center of mass,

Copper coil singing when the breathbrush touches, heat rising up through the glass.

Solar turns honest no bluff, no mask, lion in the plexus uncaged,

Ash of the fear gets sifted to past; now the will stands tall on the stage.

Heart like a lantern, petals in a spin, green rivers braided with gold,

Doorway of thunder becomes violin, every ache turning into a road.

Hands start glowing heating-pad palms, medicine flows without push,

Song in the marrow, cinnamon calm, cedar in the bloodstream hush.

This ain’t theory, this is inner weather storm made friendly, rain made wine,

Three stones in a sling knit together, shoot one arrow straight down the spine.

I don’t chase visions, I host the room; body is a temple with a skylight,

Footprints circle like a hand-drum boom, center stays bright in the twilight.

Call it three suns under one skin forge, rose, star in a single line,

Earth in the ankles, sky in the grin, breath writes gospel between the lines.

No guru badge, just dust and grace, sweat on the brow and a steady tone,

Field gets clear and the ghosts lose face; what’s not mine leaves, what is stays home.

Upshift throat like a bluebird bridge, words taste clean when the heart’s in play,

Truth rides soft over canyon ridge, echo comes back “all clear” all day.

Third eye prisma violet glass, nova in the center of the brainpan,

Quiet like thunder held under grass, lightning teaching me the same plan.

Crown like a wellhead feeding a stream, silver thread spooled out of the night,

Drops of silence bead on the beam, whole sky pouring into one light.

Now loop it back of the spine like a river road, front like a sunlit street,

Orbit around till the circuits load, then everything moves on beat.

Tanpura drone in the bones, sitar spine, djembe ribcage keeping the law,

Every inhale draws a bright coastline, every exhale smooths what I saw.

Lower sun heavy as a hammered coin, middle sun open like a meadow gate,

Upper sun sharp as a hawk’s anoint three lights braided into one fate.

Hands like hearths when the charge runs out; warmth is a language older than tongues,

Crowd gets quiet when the song unspools; everybody’s bell gets rung.

I’ve known smoke leaving like shadows split, I’ve known pops in the temple dome,

Clearing ain’t drama when the roots are lit; what leaves goes light, what stays feels home.

No crown without ground, no spark without wood, no word without breath between,

No climb without grain in the neighborhood tree learns sky by loving its green.

So if you catch that hush in your ribs tonight, let it stack like logs in the flame,

Let the three suns line up right, and the whole wide world will sign its name.

Not preaching just a map I found, drawn in pulse and dust and time;

When the drum says yes and the chest says sound, the cosmos answers in rhyme.