My Colors, My Temple

Your exhale is the carbon that feeds all living.

All rejuvenation.

The decomposition, again giving up its atoms.

Your inhale holds the life of all.

All who ever was.

We’re together — always have been.

You see that, can’t you?

The hues are prisms of popping energy.

Carved together.

Sometimes all making white, then everything in between.

Different rainbows from every set of eyes.

But all the same dust.

All together — painting our beauty.

Isn’t it easy to turn, and see?

Run the tasks that force themselves towards you.

Aimless shrouded.

Roam the continuum that holds you here with time.

Transcending or reaching through with hand.

Looking, pushing the planes.

The same circle — always has been.

Do you see you and them too?

He said, Hydrogen, a colorless light gas,

Given enough time, becomes people.

We are one, you’re here with us, welcome.