a stray thought…

the clouds are no different than the scrolls for prophets

the telling of time,

or the secrets of life.


cumulonimbus, stratocumulus, cirrus.


if you stare long enough at the white of the star,

a twinkle in the sky,

it may transform before your eyes into a dancing angel.


ocular mishaps, or magic?


if the wind patterns that govern the rumbling skies,

dancing trees,

butterfly’s wispy wings,

or elegance of a stray hair,

lend to me their intelligence


i hear the following:

let the flow move through you, with you

it is your eternal dance partner.


i think of science not a coincidence

but a messenger for curiosity and appreciation for life

beauty in existence

& existing.

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