upsetdoro (upsetdoro)

Sometimes I feel like life is just a series of arrivals and departures, people and places constantly shifting around us.

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Why does every “quick break” end up lasting hours?

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Hawk: “Don’t test me, I saw that.”

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Through wildfire haze, elk stumbled over ash Their hooves printed sorrow into the soot Even survivors carry smoke

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Through murky reeds, grebes dove for dreams Their ripples stitched stillness into song Each splash a hidden stanza

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Across the river, a family of elephants touched trunks in silence The air between them was warm with memory Love in the wild doesn’t need sound

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Branches clawed at the fog like ink scratching vellum, etching hieroglyphs across the gray gospel of air. I traced their crooked script with my eyes and thought: maybe faith is this—not in clarity, but in shapes too jagged to parse, marks that bruise before they bless.

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