I circle the room three times
I would sleep but there is never
Sufficient reason.
Who would shoulder my burden?
The queer exasperated notes
That hitch in my throat
As if it were a sieve.
I gift riddles wherever I go.
An open mouth attracts scavengers
And I’ve died more times
Than there are stars to grieve.
The sky ought to be blank
But it never is, however, thick
The vestments sewn
To abdicate its features.
I am beautiful
The universe created me
And I could not be otherwise.
Even a mistake can provide
Sufficient impetus
For the evolutions that follow.
Who could look at me
And say that I am not as intended
When they are not even
Conscious of their own designs?
beautifully interchange of poetry science spirituality
Thanks so much for your lovely comment =)
wonderful
Thanks so much Gigi!
Indeed. I have recently become myself after many years.
I am glad to hear that Sarah being yourself is most important =)
😊