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By quentinwrites   |   
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The world moves
and I move with it, a speck of dust
on a child's globe.
Silence surrounds my beating heart
except birdsong through an open window,
then broken by playful foxes
speaking in tongues.
I try to listen to the words of the universe
spoken to all but seldom heard
but all I hear is blood
rushing in my ears in gentle thuds.
Outside, the air is cool enough
to dry the sweat on my brow
and cleanse my aching lungs.
Body unbound, I feel more free
than daylight ever allows me
and the hairs on my skin rustle
in a gentle breeze.
The universe speaks, and I crane to listen
to its wisest words
but I am too imperfect
too human
to understand them.
© 2015 - 2020 quentinwrites
Written at around 04:30.
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