There is a current
Sensational tingling
That flows eternally
Inwards and outwards
Towards and around
Eternal rest
Where it builds its nest
Of spiky bits and pieces
Lined softly
To accept some body’s repose
Amidst the hustle and bustle
Of life in raw relief
Where no body’s striving
Goes unnoticed
And no one’s isolation
Goes unaccompanied
And no discomfort
Goes without care
However appearances may seem to be
To the contrary