Read it again, the narrative of being,
the explanation of pulsing organs and of the
cadence
of thoughts and sounds.
Acres of newborn earth, that seventh day
rested
bathed in the gauze of
infancy;
see him reach down, far down, and grasp the
purified soil
in his hands, his lips parted as he
breaths
the fire of life into the
face
of the ground.
And we were kindled, then. Awakened, found, born.
Now: becoming.
4 comments:
Beautiful, Holly! Are you the author?
That was amazing. Did you write this?!?
clothedmuch.blogspot.com
I did. You are both very kind, thank you.
wonderful blog! love the post :)
xAZD
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