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Giant African Land Snail

The spiral bath by Issei Suma

Liana vines by garden_and_cosmos

Remi Rebillard

A poem to a past version of myself -

I’ve always loved the thunder and rain; much more than the civilized sun.

Maybe because I had a gift for seeing the beauty in where others saw somber.

Perhaps this is why I find the best traits in a person filled with flaws.

The potential spark of light in a body of darkness.

Sure, the sun is loved and known for it’s bright beams;

But lightning cracking in overcast has the same quality.

Does she not deserve to be admired?

When that violet voltage strikes, scurry quickly for you might miss the swift illumination amongst the shadowy sky.

Look! There is some semblance of light!

I try to convince…

If I could reach out and touch that beautiful disaster I would.

Perhaps this is why I’ve repeatedly let charming hazards in to fill me violently.

. . .

I’ve always seen myself in the rain.

In the thunder.

In the lightning.

When I see another filled with rain, filled with thunder— I can’t help but want to create a storm.

Yet what the naïve girl in me failed to see;

I wanted to use the rain to feed the flowers,

You wanted to cause a flood.

I think it’s important to just take a second and stop listening to the podcasts, reading the books, consuming content, and sit with yourself and God. If you’re  living through someone else’s experience too much, you’ll forget to live in your own. We are already living in others experiences, maybe even more than our own. 

Roadtrip sex stop. (Bighorn National Forest, Wyoming)