The World Speaks 

The world speaks 
I can only listen
The universe accepted my
Apology for thinking I knew
Better than her and my
Tiny hands that grasp 
Shooting stars
In a past life I was 
A healer, perhaps a priest
So I listen daily to the
Confessions of those around me
Who I love and hate for
Reminding me of the darkness 
I carry between my tiny hands
That grasp for stars 
Never reaching what was 
Never mine only to be 
Observed and admired in a moment 
Burning of its own accord 

Author: Erica V.

Always seriously joking and rambunctiously soft-spoken.

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