The blue sky with wispy clouds peeking between the tree tops

“It’s not your job to be ecstatically happy,” The shifting sky said. “It’s not your job to be inconsolably sad, either. It’s your job to be deeply aware. And to be deeply aware is to be peace.”

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Little white and yellow flowers in a sea of green

“It looks like the universe,” they said in the same breath.

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summon
strings of
language
so absurd
they can’t be
apprehended

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A glowing white cascade running down the side of a trees mountain slope

The falls hang
like a long necklace
down the torso
of the mountain
a family heirloom
ancient, untarnished
a shrine-like shine
they don’t make them
like this anymore

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