In The Scene

When I reach for God, or god, it's just a word. My mind points the Sun, I get there, and think that's absurd. Then my mind reaches for what it cannot see, an origin, a child, lonely as can be. A child that breathes, in and out. Each breath, a version, the same, but different, that understands itself. Through pieces made whole, to resemble a waking dream, that wonders where God is, in the scene.

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