What is my spirit?

Who imagined life between

hot siestas exhilarating my breath

was it thunder or was it a caw

was it mineral, chemical or seashells

was it release, 6 chords airborne

weaver’s spell

did it feel the sun in one revolution and wanted

so without insisting, 6,000 Celsius perceived its core

did it feel new to walk crust

that bends, no edges

did it wander inside itself

and manifest it’s own reflection

everything that followed it

became its body and its sound

inside were sparrows

inside king tides were ribbons,

letters, and crescent moons

the next day the ocean washed over,

but still I knew what became my spirit