by Kai Madrone
Yesterday it was a hazy flash of green on the tip of a stick-bare branch. Today it's a throbbing pointy curl, pulsing with the urgency to unfurl. This is what it's like now. Quivering out fresh like bursting. So destined. Inevitable spring. On the verge. The verge of losing it. Losing it to laughter. This giddy gratitude. That Life is this exquisite. This simple. Miracle packed into every inch and corner. And everywhere, the sweet nothingness. This cosmic joke. Here all along. Everything I was looking for, is here. Everything I ached to be, I am. Everything we long for, is here. All of this. All of it.
I believe poetry is a song that is meant to be heard as well as read. For the full experience you can listen here~
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