Where Continents Collide
Bobbie Casey 2017 All Rights Reserved
Pausing to ponder the power in all we see, makes me considerably content to not be God, by whatever name you give the force, no matter how big or small you feel you are, this thought has an energy. I often think I could know absolutely, if only I were small enough, or large enough.
I think of faith. I believe what I perceive. I told someone a story, once. She claimed it as her own. I think it matters. If I share something what exactly does that mean? Share?
I saw a sea urchin, purple, I saw a starfish, it was not in the sky, I saw a pretty yellow sea shell, it was broken. I put these in my pocket to carry home. My acute sense of smell is what gave it away. I saw the look in those pretty blue eyes, he knew, as I knew. He could smell, too. I perceived it was not a very good idea to lie. But, I just wanted to share. So I tried my best to get away with what I had done. Now I am left with just a memory. Pretty blue eyes are still pretty to me even if they are angry. I know they exist even if it is just some sort of electrical charge in my gray matter, They are real. I perceive.