My soul travels in time, in the silence of the night, in the billowing of the wind.
My soul travels to places I can never go in this lifetime,
to places astronauts have never been.
Eyes can’t help to notice profound moments
in the lulls of our conversations,
in our emotional transactions,
in our capacity to love and despise each other.
I see different versions of the world, I want to live in them all
but reality is most important.
Because reality contains many extremes of the rise and fall,
because the reality we live in is both painful and miraculous-
stories are free to run with depth, to know no bounds.
Heart is set on fire to witness the silent fuss
of another’s eyes lit up about burning passions alike.
Artful communication between kindred souls,
just words strung together yet piecing us as whole.
Because the static of passionate ambition runs deep,
it is enough to end the war, build friendships,
then feed the hungry before they lay down to sleep.
Mine is a passion of the soul, seeping from the hearts’ tears and rips,
curated within the mind, nurtured like emotion, craving within my fingertips.

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Published by Hannah Joy