I cannot explain to you
What it is
To exist
Like many elements of life
It’s meant to be felt
Not described
Trying to describe it
Is like trying to catch air with a butterfly net
Which by the way
I think is pretty damn cruel
Those things aren’t meant to be caught
Just like how birds aren't meant to be caged
They deserve freedom
They deserve
The sky
I hate seeing a bird caged
And I have to imagine
If there's a God
He/she hates it
When we cage our meaning
And our existence
With words
It’s too much for words to catch
Like the caged bird
Like the caught butterfly
Life must be free
Life needs the sky too
The philosopher
And the priest
They capture an essence
And ruin it
The act of the capture
Tries to turn it into a slave of man
When truthfully
We are in a symbiotic relationship with it
It is here and nowhere
And we aren't as capable
Of zooming out
And seeing our lives clearly
As we think we are.
-C.H.
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