It’s hard for me to be still

But, when I am

As each moment passes

I remember a little bit more

What it is to be human


I feel my breath,

Soft as it flows in and out of me

As it moves my chest up and down


I feel the limpness of my arms

The heaviness of blood in my fingertips


I remember what it is to smell

…What it is to hear


I remember what it is to see

I notice the little white kisses from the sun’s rays

Dotting the tips of my eyelashes

They frame the silhouetted pine needles capturing my gaze

Which are now blurring out of focus

As I imagine this poem into life

And I remember what it is to dream