Who I am is always happening
Always growing or shrinking like a flower
Embodying my space, breathing myself into it
I envision a sphere of protection around me
But who I am and what I do comprise the universe
And yet I am always melting into it
And at the core of the wax
Eternity burns like a vacant stare.
Being someone, anyone, or no one:
Useless and antithetical to the poet.
Being One may acquire
an expiration of suffering
but also moments of sheer beauty
Like this lavender sky
wrapped like a translucent bandage
around the blood red sun
the pulse of the universe reflected below
in the clear pool of time.
—Jessica Lien, Prairiewoods development coordinator