Beating

It wasn't passion or imagination,
It wasn't desire or fabrication,
It wasn't longing or illusion,
And it wasn't a question.

The idea of essentiality is theoretically simple,
Yet dubiously complex in nature.

To comprehend the dawn,
Is fundamentally different,
Than apprehending the dawn,
While coming to realize,
The humbling necessity,
Of its complex simplicity.

An extension of breath,
Heart, mind, soul,
Discovered unintentionally,
With time passing, life aging,
In all-encompassing, universal inevitability.

I am my heart.
Once I was isolated,
Beating singularly,
Before I felt my corresponding rhythm,
Intensely resounding with a persistence overwhelmingly compelling.
The strength of a dually beating heart,
Is the steadfast hope of our eternal, irrevocable tranquility.