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June 6th

My Heart, you smell like cinnamon.

By Angela MichellePublished 4 months ago Updated 4 months ago 2 min read
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@thefloragrimoire

If it is true,

this theory of human/nature separation,

One might then see this presented in the way self judgment does not seem to have a hold over the natural world as it seems to have over us. Though

I might say, I can see a similarity in the humor we make on ourselves, suggesting then, we are inseparable.

Some say, the one universal truth, the compass to follow, is that of beauty. By the taste the Earth seems to have.

Self doubt, in this view, then becomes a rather valuable thing to trade so recklessly in a crowd, at a party, in a pinch.

Mother knows, what's done is done. There is no undoing. But there is healing.

And we have values.

Right?

A life lived by prayers & songs sung of gratitude?

No?

There is the value of weight.

The weight we relieved,

the responsibility we took?

Weight of our words,

of our waste

of our wisdom

counted up like gold.

How sorry we will be then, once we interpret the Whale's song.

What a resource we could have had, from the clicks and trills of sperm whales, if only we'd seen with our ears before seeing them for oil.

What would we see now

had we never made love to fire and married the night like this?

Forgetting, what's shared in the depth of darkness is not meant to be a secret.

Perhaps we would be using all those riches we harvested from listening

to their stories & tales, to buy ourselves a bit of self respect.

Try it on for fit.

Say then we stop pretending,

stop contributing to the despair,

stop fearing our inner knowing.

Say we do something about it.

Say we say something about it.

Like, this value system you go by gives you a really shallow personality.

Or, Stop obsessing over your identity and if it is legitimate in society.

Stop trying to achieve out of your class.

It's O.K, if you're not a famous artist, Ivy scholar, career journalist, pig breeding champion, horse racing millionaire, if you've climbed Mnt. Matterhorn, own a business, or have a degree, know anything about politics, run a side pottery gig, book, or even audition, make all your meals, brush your teeth, work 40 hours a week, pay all your bills, stretch, and get eight hours of sleep.

As long as you, speak kindly, see with more than only your eyes, and love yourself beauty.

performance poetrysocial commentarynature poetry
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About the Creator

Angela Michelle

Told I held up the class, I was sent to a separate room. My dyslexia restricted me, but guided me to performance. Not until college did I learn to properly read and write by speaking out text. I’m here, continuing the practice. Thank you.

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