Rec
๐
I stare at the stars and they gaze back at me, prescribing a valency, a mutual nature, inspired and growing, forging new ways of being, relentlessly I pursue, treading ever so softly as a feather.
2d ago
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Jun 22, 2025
Rec
๐ฑmy Stance rely on Grass. perfect posture molt by the Ground. the Sun squeeze Me until I condensate and evaporate upon Myself. the Sky hooks my compulsion to release My hazy stare on It. I bend Myself to find My feet. and between My hooves I see the only Black atop the Green and surround by Sky. I understand I need to know This. I rise and Shamble through memories of the Grass. the Color changes as I explore but the wind blinks Its change sometimes to often. and when It does that I forget the first image, if I saw It again Id never learn. but One Thing stay real, the Black. but now, Its Brown below, and shaped closer to recognition. and after the repetitive process of gullible reconnaissance the Weather changes Its final time, It is clear. and when I look up, It is there. A clean Fawn-Crow. the Utter Reflection, of what is Mother. of What is calamity that is of Me. It Stands like I do, just as It rose and Stumbled along to Me, as I Stand and watch Its voyage closer to memory. and now I know what it all was for. but still, I want to Walk like that again. so I lay, and dream in the Light of the Sky, as Clouds perform.
Rec
In certain circumstances, everything else falls away. Itโs all about perspectiveโa moth to a flame, a dart to a target. In mine, I am drawn. To what else, but you?
Some say itโs about the chase. To love is to be known, something like that. And suddenly, I was transformed. Where youโd go, my eyes would follow. In all you made and done, I was a witness. Struck by an existence more beautiful than my own.
Before you, the room is filled. The symphony played, the painting completed. A means to an end. A single, burning star in the night sky.
(A short story by me!)
Some say itโs about the chase. To love is to be known, something like that. And suddenly, I was transformed. Where youโd go, my eyes would follow. In all you made and done, I was a witness. Struck by an existence more beautiful than my own.
Before you, the room is filled. The symphony played, the painting completed. A means to an end. A single, burning star in the night sky.
(A short story by me!)
4d ago
