the_etherealmuse
Member
- Jan 17, 2025
- 36
I drift without purpose, a mere fragment of the cosmos, buoyant in the ever ebbing currents of life. I'm merely atoms frolicking in transient configurations.
I arose in my mother's womb, and one day I shall be relinquished to the earth's womb. Like the umbilical cord that once bound me, the roots will serve as tethers to the soil, my cradle, my substrate. Microorganisms, the weavers of life, will unravel every atom of my being, stitching the loam around me with the remnants of my essence. Then I shall be salvaged, born anew in the mellow sway of the trees, the coarse grain of bark, the timid slumber of buds blanketed by petals.
I arose in my mother's womb, and one day I shall be relinquished to the earth's womb. Like the umbilical cord that once bound me, the roots will serve as tethers to the soil, my cradle, my substrate. Microorganisms, the weavers of life, will unravel every atom of my being, stitching the loam around me with the remnants of my essence. Then I shall be salvaged, born anew in the mellow sway of the trees, the coarse grain of bark, the timid slumber of buds blanketed by petals.
