When all the stars are in their proper place
And the dead ones have given up their space
When equality and equity are one and the same
And goodness is sought for in place of fame
When we are able to redact our every mistake
And truly learn lessons from every heartbreak
It will be the day when the immortals die
And their souls rise up to embrace the sky

The atmosphere has always pulled on me
Like a single sparkle in tall grass at night
To discover the flight of soul
It whispers of great things in the wind
Tugging always against my gravity, the
world, and what is called reality.
I must learn to fly.

It is a sacred place
Where statues of memories stand
And familiar voices echo from wells
Where the wind blows the dandelions
To grow the falling stars
That I wish upon

If we could take all the tiny impressions
And all the memory shards
Of the overlooked insignificant moments
And put them altogether
With the great ones
Perhaps a full soul could be made.

The pulse is thready now
What once fed life is gone
The eyes and mind flit away
While the change is sown
And nature knows just how
To make all else carry on
As if it were just a day
As if it were never known