The mind

is a mosaic

of myriad patterns,

each one singular—

wholly unique.

Not fashioned

for purpose

but

the mere essence

of being.

Not for beauty,

not for allure,

though by chance you’d see it,

you might find it

beautiful.

But first,

you’d have to grasp

the gravity

of the pattern’s existence—

how it forms

a person,

defines

a soul.

Without the mind,

there is no pattern,

but without the pattern,

the mind

ceases to be.

And in the nothingness,

there’d be no light

for the mind

to chase.

For it feeds

on light,

and through it,

flourishes.

So when they claim

that within the mind

lies only darkness—

they are mistaken.

No human is born

in the void.

No mind

emerges from shadow.

The light

always

finds us.

And through it,

we learn

that just because

there is light,

we don’t have to

burn.