Sunrise sisters

How in love I am with life to see the magenta magpie sky.

Do we speak to the skies and ask for help because they seem so boundless?

So freeing?

So unreachable

and up there

that we ought to just try to connect to it?

I don’t know about you, but lately

I feel like the ground and the netherworld are my best friends.

I think

I’d rather burrow in comfort than traipse on clouds today.

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Side note: can you believe that the skies actually look like that with no filter/whatsoever?! I’m glad the morning woke me up to show its beautiful face to me that day.

Sunshine highs

The same stories make my heart bloom over and over again.

It’s like the sweet spring and savory summer greeting you under the alcove.

Kissing you with “hellos” on two cheeks, kissing you “good bye” in two weeks.

They must’ve planned this.

Cradled you and let you walk far enough to balance on your two sticks.

Rewinding clouds

Wouldn’t it be great to experience something so beautiful time and time again?

To live through that first feeling you had,

whether it be trying a new food for the first time,

seeing fresh colors of a sunset you’ve never experienced before,

or watching that favorite movie of yours as though you’ve never seen it.

There’s something special about our firsts,

something irreplaceable.

That strength of expression felt from that first time around is something you want to capture again.

But I also think it’s beautiful to let our memories be preserved and aged like fine wine.

There’s something beautiful about knowing how a story will end the second, third, fourth, or twenty-seventh time around.

Beauty comes in pieces, expansive or minute,

they’re lovely regardless.

Sunken sunflower commentaries

I’ve been inhaling sunshine and drinking straight sunblock out of the bottle lately. It’s been glorious.

The heat of the sun feels like the tender hug from a lover, you know? The one whose scent tends to linger?

Shielded by leaves of trees, and yet it’ll find a crevice to puncture through. How comforting yet conquest-seeking it is.

The sun calls to you when it’s out, but then it forces you to retreat to shelter once it hides behind its rock. So demanding at times, really.

A source of hope to most and a root of despair to some– what a large number of acquaintances it has to have both so many friends and so many enemies.

There are times where I wish for it to be tucked in bed within the wisps of the clouds so not to blind me for the day.

There are also days where I wish for it to come out sooner than it plans to after a storm. How demanding of me as well.