Poetry

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Blink and You’ll miss it

The nature of living

Is a fickle thing

I was born in the middle

Of too much and not enough

 

At times I look up at the big sky

In the middle of barren interstate

And feel completely, limitless

Untethered, unhinged, yet underwhelmed

 

At other I am, floored

By all the intimate twists of fate

That brought me to intersections with strangers

That slowly turned into friends

 

The best way to put it: We are quick burning stars

Stuck in personal spiral galaxies

Life hurts, and then it doesn’t

But blink, and then you’ll miss it.

 

Real places

I looked down at my arms

My legs, my chest, my hips

And for once it felt okay.

 

The water settled at my feet

Foam washing over my skin

It is red, and alive,

 

Like the apples on the tree

In the field

Were I laid last summer with all my best friends

 

Roots shoot through my veins

Grip into the water

Into the field with the apples

 

I will be re-born here

Again and again and again

And again come back to the water, the field

 

To places where I am

Alive. And whole.

Places of divine connection

 

Places where I know you love me

Places where the sun rises and falls

Places where it’s not getting dark.

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