grow

I dreamt of touching the sky. My hand reached up and never stopped growing. Past the moon. Brushing against the nearby planets. Running into comets. Touching the stars. Thousands of galaxies. My eyes long gone yet I could feel the magic that is the ocean of stars, the magic of life, the magic that is wilderness.

reachers in the wild, 2022

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s