Friday, July 4, 2014

Of Dust and Stars

I can smell  it in the rain
feel it in the air
I hear it in our son's voice when he says that sometimes he feels alone because he can't always hear and feel what people are thinking
it is in the way the trees rustle softly in the wind
the feeling of the mountains surrounding me
the touch of your arms around me.
I see it in our son's eyes when he tells me that one day he'll die, one day I'll die, one day you'll die
but it's okay
because we will be back again.

I feel it flashing in my eyes
much to their surprise
and I know that no matter where I go it will always be there
the mountains in my bones, this place that I have always called home.

It is there in that moment between torture and extacy
the space between breaths
the moment when life becomes death and death is reborn
there in my soul, that moment where all we are is real and that reality makes us whole.

There in the moment
the moment life leaves the eyes
the moment a baby first sees the world
there in the moment when passion consumes rage
and tears dissolve all our fears.

I know what he means, the little one, when he says that sometimes he can't hear them, sometimes he can't feel them.
And I envy that he misses it in those moments
because baby, they are so loud, and they feel so much.
Sometimes I feel like the whole human race is screaming in my dreams
reaching for something they don't even know that they already have
because they cannot remember where they came from and who they will be.

Some of my first memories were of people telling me I was different
and I remember the look in their eyes when I would respond to their thoughts
oh my love, they like it not.

It's in my bones though, this land it consumes my soul
we are simply a reflection of all that is
all that has been
and all that will ever be.

Do you feel it?
In the space between thoughts
in the light behind our eyes
we are made of dirt and stars, consciousness defined by meaningless meanings.

Part of me is afraid
because here on the mountain, sometimes it's all that I can hear, all that I know
the world is a loud place, with all the confusions of the human race.
I know that when I leave here I will take it with me
and when they look into my eyes
they will always show that slight surprise
and I'll pretend not to know that part of them noticed the wild in my soul.

I can hear it whispering through the trees, like the laughter I once followed for miles
in the silence between words
the space between heartbeats, the moment between breaths.
These trees and I, we have known each other for a very long time.

Sometimes I feel sorry for humanity because we have forgotten our place
we forget that we are made of stars and dust, that the soul never turns to rust
but I am reminded
by the sound of your heartbeat
the touch of the mountains
the kiss of passion and pain
we were created to feel
to be real.

Because, while we often forget, we are made of dust and stars
surviving off of earth's tears
an infinite drop in the ocean
and so we ride with the motion
we are the universe expressing itself in an infinitesimally endless moment.
Can you feel it?


  1. As always, I resonate. I know exactly what you mean.

    1. Thank you, kind anonymous. This is one of those things that not many resonate with...


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