Formations

I was merely etching my own shadows
When it turned into some form of painting
One without hues; without any meaning
It became self sustaining
Growing into things I have not yet seen.

I was merely following the sound of my own footsteps
When it turned into some form of a journey
One without a destination; without an end
It became self sustaining
Growing into a geography I have not yet embarked upon

I was merely listening to my own heartbeats
When it turned into some form of music
One without a tune; without any symphony
But it became self sustaining
Growing into a ballad I have not yet heard

I am yet to follow my soul
One without any desire or the need to 'be'
But there is somewhere
A hole, a void
That has never asked for a filling
Simply because it was growing
To become a diffusing matter
Revealing the spirit underneath.