pillars

I often feel minuscule—

like nothing I do or become can alter what’s destined to unfold.

the earth remains, indifferent.

listening, watching

that mountain range will hold the same trees, cradle the same rocks—

long before I arrived, long after I’m gone.

and yet, sometimes, I feel essential—

as if every word, every mistake, every act of love

ripples into the collective,

impacting lives I’ll never see.

pain and joy find themselves in every crevice of the body,

echoes passed on,

feeding the life that follows us.

the relationship between soul, mind, and body

is one I’ll spend forever learning—

because our body is only a vessel,

our mind only a prism of experience,

and our soul,

a collective library of every soul it has ever touched