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
because
we are the universe expressing itself in an infinitesimally endless moment.
Can you feel it?