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Writer's pictureCecily

Human?

Each new day that passes, marvelling in magic.

I grow deeper in my gratitude for this miracle of cells, this world.


Even when my bones are tired,

This brain is fried from constant information.

This submerging stimulation the modern world unwillingly bathes and cooks our tortured souls.


Stepping back.


I must let go of all I thought may come to pass.

Sticky grass combs my toes,

I lick moorish air and grin, pulling a single drop of my being.


Melting in awe and silence of my mind when I write these changing words.


Making sense of the unpredictable,

I have learnt is a dooming quest.


Just lay here.

Gladly masked from brute and stones.


Human nature,

This spinning void of endless curiosity and question.

Stamped our history,

This curving symbol derives no sense.


Being human,

Remaining in alloted slots of unknown.

Ancestral needs pull us deeper through darker holes of frustration.


"What will happen?"

"Where will I be?"


Giving in to time,

Banishing the voice of ego, we can separate these insufferable needs.


Beginning to relish in the emptiness of a single, quiet nothing.

Disputing this sickening urge to plan.


I refuse in fighting the destiny of tomorrow.

I surrender to the forever morphing direction of my feet.


Greeting each new day in stride,

Undescribable how strong these arms, now yeilding the torch of love.


Forever fuelled in hopeful passage,

I fly with such beautiful wings.


Gifted by selfless acts and kindness.

Cocooned in the wisdom and knowledge passed on from all the mystical humans I have found and are yet to meet.

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27.04.24

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