Litkicks Message Board Archive

fulfillment

Posted to Action Poetry




is not observed, but felt in the gut, mine is real, as the seasons, that play in my life, hugging me tight in times of grief, but closer in times of joy, i feel myself grow in the edge of petals, that unfold for the willing, and experience is mine, without labels or judgement, as i wear it under the eyes of God himself...

aki