I can watch this all day.

The sway of my breath, As it draws in vitality. Gracing the crown of my head, With bright amber thoughts.

I transform.

I organic machine, The perfect vehicle to create.

To turn matter into energy, Energy into movement, Movement into art, And all over again.

I cyclical being, With a circular existence. I pray that these roots may grow, That this chest may swell, With a drive to create a new story come dawn. I pray to the earth that someday, I may find my way back.

And when all this sunlight, Has been turned into ripe fruit, Then I ask to be laid bare.

May the wind whisper my memory, Amidst torrential rain and thunder.

May the earth use this body, To fuel another’s existence.

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