Horizon

Knowing that I’ll only have this human form for a limited time, I strive to feel each and every muscle stretch and contract. I’ve been learning to love the mirror, the horizon, the back of my eyelids. I fight the sleep to stay in the light longer, but all light turns to darkness when sleep wins. I'm not afraid each night, so why be afraid when one day that darkness might be forever?

No other soul has this body has these thoughts has this life. No other soul overlaps in nature and nuture, leading to who we have become. We are all tiny bodies on a tiny planet, in a universe wider than our imaginations. Despite this tiny existence, the coordination of stimulus from thought to action, from perception to story, is nothing short of a miracle.

When the sun sets, and the sky bleeds pink, purple, orange, then grey, is that not the world slow blinking, fighting sleep each night, too?