Alchemizing
my hunger into holiness
my sanity into sinfulness
What if the answer
isn’t in endings,
but in the quiet bloom of beginnings?
Not in tearing apart,
but weaving together—
a tapestry
where all the gods meet,
their love spilling
into the soil of our souls,
birthing myths
we’ve yet to imagine
Do you feel the stars
holding their breath,
as we dare to wish upon them?
Do they wait,
trembling in their brilliance,
to see if we’ll rise
to meet our own dreams?
Do you think the universe
leans closer,
its vastness folding
into our fragile hearts?
Copyright©Neer