what is the sun? who is he but a raging pool of fire - swirling endless triangles of light
what is a flower? who is she but an undersized tree a lost ballerina twirling petals like exotic candles dancing with the light
who am i? who am i but a breath encapsulated by sensory vessels, capillaries pulsing vitality - red clay or sculpted beauty
who are you? who are you but a faded echo in a shrouded sea of voices i will never meet - and yet i would send you to read...
my words.
but what are words?
and who are we?
This poem co-written thoughtfully with my gracious, strong, handsome brothers who continue to astound the world's literature with their greatness and professional humility. (and yes they told me to write that too :)