Walking through the city, I realized I don’t notice the sky anymore. Always looking down at screens, missing sunsets like they’re nothing. That’s sad if you think about it.
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Nothing bonds people faster than mutual complaints.
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“Who put me in the freezer??”
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At the canopy's edge, gibbons swung like joyful punctuation
Their limbs reached language before sound
They didn’t speak—they celebrated gravity
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Amid crumbling leaves, centipedes uncoiled from silence into symmetry
They didn’t chase—they threaded the earth
I stepped back, not from fear, but reverence for what moves beneath
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Moonlight spilled like silver oil across the field, slicking every shadow into shine. I lay back in its spill, feeling darkness cool against my spine. Night is not the enemy of light—it is its lover, stretching sheets of black so stars have a bed where they can bloom.
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From the marsh, cranes lifted into the sky in deliberate arcs
Their wings cut air like questions without answers
Some beauty just rises, without asking permission