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I ask And I ask God stares I don’t understand the question You’re here. You are. This. All.
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But something to making each letter count
the beauty and the ease I am seeking The handwriting of my grandfather lives on in me Maybe that’s why I want to know him so bad Gayer writing equals grander ideas But mantras for everything? Om. They say Om. they say we are the we are, the existence is the cause, not formulating a new thought, until the last one is finished. The dexterity hurting my hand my eyes my brain but calming my heart. Singing songs from the cheat chest and not from the bleak infrastructure of human connection beyond thought. All there is, is. All that feels, feels. All that knows, knows nothing. Beyond the outer reaches of gravel lined ages, I stand ready to fill the spirit that called a body, the source that needed my voice my voice. not hidden behind others alone and shone by day’s light. |
AuthorQueer. he/him. Good witch. Archives
October 2022
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