I’m not a big re-blogger, but I really love this poem, and resonate with it deeply. May you all enjoy it as much as I did:-)
Elevating us above the ordinary cobblestones of Post Office Park,
The moon shinning over our pre-pubescent crew of misfits.
One step closer to the sky.
It was on nights such as these that I felt my first creative pangs.
They began as fleeting impressions like witnessing a shooting star,
At first you are not sure of having seen one,
yet there is a sensation of awe that lingers.
Then came the tremors,
electric and charged,
pushing me to put words to the haunting beauty that surrounded me.
I dramatically tried to verbalize what I was experiencing,
the sound of wet snow falling on the churning winter ocean
or the scent of wild roses in a thick salty fog.
By the time the earthquake hit at age 15, I was armed with the art of words.
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