Lady disquiet

There once was a man who had everything settled, house, children and prayers neatly kettled.

Then one night without reason, without warning, a petit disquiet appeared, just before morning.

She did not knock and simply sat down, with that look of a gentle fraun.

'Are you comfortable' a sweet voice whisper, 'how charmingly small', creatures comfort has a ball'.

Distracted and anoied he ask her to leave, you are ruining my happy home and peace.

But Lady disquiet does not leave because you ask her to, she likes to stay like the sky is blue.

Spirit challenges dread, and souls freedom makes her own bed. Virtues choice and art, to be the author of the heart.

The ache of having no true home, in the world where strange belief still roam.

The spark that lights the holy fire, to pull the soul much higher.

For some it comes as longing in all that speaks, it is the wheel of convenience that squeaks. 

No precise action or pain and more a flaw, some noble truth that open a door ajar. 

The man understood at last, Lady disquiet is not a curse to outlast.

It is a holy friction a sacred unrest, comfort is a trap and Lady disquiet is a quest.

She shatters the illusion to humble the ego, identifying the self in the limbo. 

The waking call towards the cosmic dance, to take the hand to wisdoms enhance.