If I could change everything:

the way water falls from the heavens,

through the remains of time and space,

through argon and memories, disintegrating

what we were before breath;

the way the tilt of the earth at certain hours

causes the sun’s light to fracture, exposing

the possibilities that were once available

but now are only ether, here;

the way the physical laws of this dimension

dictate the earth’s gyrations, refusing ever

to reverse the direction of time, or allow for

the recovery of any moment before this one;

the way that prayers offered up to heaven,

sometimes, become lost in the cacophony

and take decades to become disentangled,

to finally become answered;

the way we are born with a limited knowledge

of all the possibilities that we could actualize,

and often do not become aware of, until

they are just out of reach ;

the way the metaphysical influences upon us

always remain the uncertain invisibilia felt,

but rarely, if ever, confirmed as truth or

the intervention of the divine;

the way this lifetime fragments into multiples,

each leaving indelible markings on experience,

these marks shifting the prism through which

the world and life achieve their color;

the way memories remain of the expanse

of the years before prayers were answered,

of all the searching and the moments spent

without you;

the way we enter the ten thousand things,

becoming separated from the eternal,

from what our spirit had always known,

what we should have known always;

so that we would not need now to heal,

but our arms yet would heal in the space

of our physical presence, in the same way

that coming home heals the spirit;

so that we could be now,

as we should have always been,

should have always continued to be,

and had always been

until we entered this world.

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