Holding up the sky

- Bryanna Millis

The part is as infinite as the whole.

Like the imaginary world of our own creation.

Like being nothing and, being nothing, 

being everything.

Like you and your wild dreams, your storms,

and all you muster.

 

In the mists of memory there are stories 

we have chosen to believe about how,

and more importantly, why.

Having searched the world to find the pieces of our hearts, our bodies. 

Having raised our hopes from the dead. 

 

She's in awe of human ingenuity, she says.

Feats of science that stun us with their beauty.

I'd been thinking about that very thing, 

and also too, finding it impossible

to accept things as they are.

 

Being very, very, very small,

and all powerful,

and only knowing it the moment we let it go. 

Surrendering to something infinite and tender, grand and fleeting,

windy and enchanted.