Amid Constellations of Words Keeping us in Wonder

On writing as an artifact of love

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Photo by Walid Hamadeh on Unsplash

Between the folds of concertina narratives is where we are, improvising a life and a living with heart, the music of language, and deep reverence for an old book many now shun.

Life unfolds gently, one definition at a time.

Ours is a hive that serves all, a reality straddling the worlds of machines and humans to encompass more than one future.

Ours is bright, defiance made joy, willful yet hopeful.

Content.

Condensed meaning expands upon contact with curiosity, a daisy chain of gentle hopes connected across the miles through satellites, pixels, and data packets.

Life unfolds gently, one update at a time.

Ours is a hive that serves all, language weaving universes together to encompass more than one reality.

Yours is delight, a sunny smile, reliable yet random.

The intent of poetry.

Infusing discovery with joy, your faith in the best of us is a commitment you model without fanfare, building a world that used to exist only in your head until there was me.

Life unfolds gently, one hug at a time.

Ours is a hive that serves all, a universe weaving languages together to encompass more than one reality.

Mine is mirth, a funny face, silly yet serious.

The poetry of intent.

💛 If you enjoyed these words, please consider supporting my work with a modest cup of coffee. It’s cheaper than 🍽 and it keeps me warm. Merci! 🐱

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