Blood rushes to the palms and face. Atop the ground they rest. A ground lined with unlamenting fields of softened fabric, or that with none. Slowly, they sink into their base, filling it with the warmth of their appendages as every muscle fiber making up the back stretches in relief and the arm flexes in coherence, a steady pause.
Sinking. The heart fills with a breezy calm, spreading from its nervous source, gracefully engulfing to the very molecules inter-dependantly creating its rhyme. Chest heavy with emotion, hot with conviction. Pulsing with ease, flowing in protagonist, propagating waves of warmth to the brain. The brain. An organ that now, for once, rests lower than the heart. For once all logic under feeling. For once, reason lower than agitation...true humility.
A stature so great, words so simple. Lips moving to contact, in between escaping a sound as high as a whisper. Whispering to the grounds, words heard in the heavens;
The world now is no dominion, no master, no matter...floating under your Lord as He brags to the beings that never fault, never flaw, as He brags about you to the Angles...blessings descend on you and thus, Calm...and thus, Transcendence.