Life

A shiver runs down my spine, leaves run along the ground.

Dead leaves crunch, new ones fall.

Trees dance, birds sing.

My mind follows the wind, a marathon with no end.

I come across a pond, an old, quiet pond.

Ripples of movement from little mysterious creatures.

I stare down at myself, a distorted, burry version of myself.

A little bug lands on my arm.

A creepy crawly that is not at all creepy,

Just a crawly.

Just a crawly who is perceived as creepy because of the fears of others.

A life that is not less or more valuable as others,

Just like the trees, the birds, the plants.

They’re all alive.

breathing,

growing,

living.