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I’ve been ground and pulverized into powder

They’ve used me to make food for many

I’ve been eaten, consumed by choice, my own

They’ve torn chunks off me like I was a sourdough loaf

I cannot see beyond the list I’ve been boiled down to

I cannot see them for I have no sense of gaze

No ability to know them as I move too fast toward no one

There is no sky, no chance, no opportunity, but I dream

I dream of a round hole for my equally round peg

I dream of the sea,  to have such deepness of soul

The powerful swaying tides of rushing force

And the submission to it-

Like closing your eyes and letting the current float you away

I dream of the horizon, the space between sky and sea

The ecstasy of hues and tones that live, move and have being

I dream of that hovering canvas these eyes call blue 

That drifting collection of air and gasses, heaven’s concoction

The ever standing still segment of the Universe’s chemical cocktail 

The harbinger of doom, death, and Vitamin D-

I imagine being like the sea in its seething and surging occupation

No one questions its presence until it has tsunamied into land’s place

I imagine remaining as constant and contained as the sky above

whose self isn’t mentioned unless its carrying boom and spark

I imagine bridging life to life as the intermediary line 

Joins day to night and depths to expanse-

It may not even exist beyond our eyes conception of its presence

So unlike God whose being cannot be pointed at with a finger

But He occupies all space and time and cannot be factored out

He won’t be negated by a satellite’s view of earth

Nor can an understanding of gravity and a spinning axis explain

If I could get a glimpse of who I am from space,

maybe I would understand my own place

In a universe hidden from our eyes beyond a squint and point

Or displayed to us by faith in a satellite’s exposure

But the great black expanse has no idea who I am

The lactose path to infinity has no care for my form

My beauty goes unnoticed by the blue and red flamed gasses

Lighting our night blue when gray puffs and city razzle allow-

Ships sink when in storms they lose the horizon’s level plain

Planes fall to sea when that bridge hides from their instruments

Something so ingrained in our visual vocabulary that fails to, in reality, exist

Yet I am here and you walk right by like I am the imagined one

He fills up all molecules of time and space but you say He is distant

You say He who sees me from outside of all the bios cannot truly be

If you ever really see me, maybe you will see Him instead

I stand,  my loveliness on display, I simply am

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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