toribell

I'm feeling contemplative yet again....

Our notions of reality
Of separateness
We draw lines around ourselves
And say, This is so.

But yet the lines we draw
Are shadows
Made up of a handful of leaves
That turns into a carpet of sand

We call a particular grouping of molecules
A human
And say it thinks and feels
We give it a soul

Call ourselves spirit
Different, above
But Im confused to why
To what
Makes us truly human

Or what that even means at all.

I never felt god through a bible
On my knees
Or in a church
Ive never seen a soul in a picture
Just in dirt

God only whispered in the pasture
Through the grass
Lying under an open sky
And I wonder if we borrow spirit
From the wind

What truly keeps our bodies from splitting into dust?
The line in-between life and death
Constantly redefined
Some humans have dead eyes
While a rock can hum alive

These notions
The lines that separate us from the earth
I often would like to erase them
And become one with the night sky.