Again, I am spotted at my windowsill– Feet dangling in the damp, summer air, With my gaze locked on the horizon. “What had I imagined all the years before”? The thought circles around in my mind while the light rain trickles in and the steam of my coffee trickles out— I take a sip. I’ve…
If I hum while I write, am I making music? If I write the blues with saxophones serenading my soul, are my words jazz? If a single string of notes can spark my passion, cause me to lunge across the room for my pen, are my thoughts lyrics? Is an artist inspired by an artist…
How endowed we all are, gifted with the proficiency of perception, Entrusted with the ability to venture down the many rabbit holes of unique understandings to better comprehend the varying spectrums of ever-developing thought; If only we may choose to take the time… Maybe then we may consider that we are continuously changing beings, steadily…
Aurora|Wrote 