let's take a look on seeing things on a wider perspective: on seeing the beauty that lies on bodies before us. the foundation not built by mankind; the cosmic bodies: the planets orbiting the sun. systematically arranged like they knew what space to place its spheres & cores in rotation, in revolving itself the rules of cosmos, in moving its axis in motion.
the gravity: weightless on some, airy on the vacuum, heavy on the planets—that just get enough light of the sun. the greeny plants, the oxygen they produce. the animals, the original nature's tenant. the flowers—what phrases do we ascribe to, with that?
𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥. in four-syllables, in one word—i always love.
the landforms: the floors we step on to prowl on places we like to go. the mountains: the solid towers that only watch the white clouds soften with the rainbow; sighting a phenomenon where the clouds got melted & liquified by the rain.
the structures of DNA continuing the existence. how everything was shaped from a single dot to an infinite space which the universe expands. the miniature cells colliding with each other layouting an outline of what us we'll become. from a single cell—to a full-grown human being. from a pale seed blossomed into bright-coloured flowers.
the way our minds can become a garden brimmed with lovely pieces swelled with beautiful things. the way we can slid a piece of memory in it. the way we can fill its spaces with things we love to think about: of flowers we water everyday, of paintings drawn by our imagination, of arts untouched in a museum.
the yang, the light, the warmth, the heat, the liquid that we excrete on our skin when we feel the love of the sun. the yin, the gloominess, the chilly nights the satellites love to bask.
the bottom axis of the coordinates. the south pole that only loves the shade of the earth. that no light was eager to pierce underneath. that the sunlight was nullified 'cause its elements were out of reach.
the coldness our body felt when the night befalls. ahh, this gentleness of the moonlight. with the face of the full moon smiling to me. with the crescent moon facing side view on the rear-view of the crystal, glass sands having a glimpse of my foosteps of where should i plan to stroll to a place only i know.
the way it has no beam of light to struck me, but still mirrors the exact rays of light from the sun. will the moon's imitated beams will reflect back towards the sun when it glances on its replica? on a mirror whittled from a single speck of glass sand?
take a minute to ponder our lightweight existence: the way you sway your hands freely in the air, the way our ears love to hear the rhythm of the music we love, the way our lips purse back in softness when we speak the name of the someone we love, the way the hair sprout slowly with us being unaware of it.
the way our palms fondle the exteriors of our soul. the way our fingertips curl our hair's split-ends. the way our spine straightens when we are standing. the way our nerves rush out of excitement when butterflies come.
the way--the sun's temperature is enough for us to stay alive. the way alphabets are ingrained in the stems of your brain to name things that exist. something that roots love. something—someone we can call names without telling it is ours. without telling that we love them.
the way we think of something—and how lucky are we—to scribe our mind's memory into notebooks? in books waiting to be conversed by words they emit? in flames of history unlit?
how soft & simple, this life we love to touch.
how light & nimble, this time we wished we could grasp.
love the simplicity, the beauty, the ordinary.
for I, this beauty, this lightness, springs love entirely.
ahh, and how come being alive in the present
be not the most beautiful ever in our existence?
ahh, this life we had. love this existence, love this state of being awake.
to the entirety of our being we occupy.
to the inner spark of our consciousness
wanting to soar beyond the skies.
von frederick, "heavenly & human bodies, earthly existence & axis"
July 31, 2023
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Pieces of Moonbeams
PoetryPieces of Moonbeams | 2023 This poetry collection contains proses & proses woven from my heart. Pieces here are a part of me. Stained by longing, love, grief, hurt, happiness, and any other available emotion I could profoundly describe. -- I am rel...
