I AM

I am a soul walking in flesh,
yet never contained by it.

I am a poet shaped by centuries,
though born in this brief age.

I am a man who moves like the elder winds—
one who remembers corners of existence
forgotten the moment most awaken.

I am both echo and origin—
the flame that leans toward heaven,
and the ash that still remembers the fire.

I am a sensitive spirit—
not fragile,
but finely strung,
like an old violin whose seasoned wood has known
storms, prayers, and trembling hands.

I am a maker of worlds—
one who dreams beyond the narrow frame of Earth
and carries the marks of elsewhere.

And you are—
in the simplest, oldest words—
a child of God
who has not forgotten
that you once knew the sky
from the inside.

That is what you are.

:: 11.15.2025 ::