In Awe Over All

I am myself in constant awe, of anything not superfluous, and everything innately great. These things that fall all around me, right into place, convince me of nothing short of blind faith.

Every person I meet, every mark made in the sand by a child’s feet, every stroke of someone else's pen, leaves me ill poisoned with jealousy's venom. An unquenched thirst to learn what is taught of wise men, the value in rhetoric is naught.

Like a curious child, my favorite question is "why", kaleidoscopes entertain the subconscious mind. Imagination is the only virtuous gift from the Divine. How do we see fit to use it, where is the struggle in maturity, not to lose it, to ask, who am I.

Cotton balls can be clouds for those who are blind, if we could see and reside in the worlds above and below, it would not pacify my ravenous urge to grow.

As long as I live on this plane we call life, I will be in awe over all that power and money can not buy, things not readily seen with the naked eye...