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Our Source of Us
How I miss speaking poetry to the universe,
dancing underneath the stars,
being one with every movement,
no matter how ridiculous I looked
spreading my emotions upon the grass and the air...
All I hoped for was
that God was watching...
hoping The Great Holy
understood my lungs, my mind, my heart
and shamed me not for expressing my wildness inside of me
... All I ever wanted was my human existence to be a piece of art...
A gallery of every moment
Because I can't seem to experience myself unless I'm creating within creation.
...
and for a moment I wonder,
"Is this how God comes to understand themselves too?"
Memory
Capturing the light of time of then,
looking back,
oh. how I have changed,
but oh, how I am still the same.
...
DA is nostalgia
© 2014 - 2024 CherishKay
Comments21
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Interesting. 