600th Post.

When I was little I would crawl up

and across the backyard fence

until I reached that place of refuge

I've been chasing after since.


Lying blankets down upon the roof

above my father's shed

after all the wasps had bedded down

and stilled their buzzing dread.


And I used to think the grandest show,

it danced above my head,

in the inky black before me-

my family tucked safe in their beds.


But now I see that rooftop was a stage,

and it was I

who was captivating all the breath

and grandeur of the sky.


The mountains strained their eyes

to see the outline of a girl

perched upon her rooftop harbor

with her blonde bob in a twirl.


And there my brother's hand-me-downs,

all the scrapes upon my knees,

transformed from blemish into virtue

like an artist's masterpiece.


All of this must have been the wonder

I felt filling up my breath

as I drank in all the stars

and felt my dreams pound in my chest.


And yet, these days I feel quite swallowed up,

like a pebble in the sea...

oh! how I long to feel that awe again-

The awe of You inside of me.