engr.albertmike

In cosmic tropical fields, flowers spring petals stretch on astral wings. A cosmos born in an earthly bed, unfurl in warmth with stars widespread. In hues of dusk, it seems to gleam A universe within its dream. Is it a bloom, a stellar sight? Or galaxies in petals bright? Each blossom piece holds celestial grace A nebula in a tiny space. Is it a flower or transcendent lore? An astronomical flourish It's a dance, a galactic symphony, Embracing skies, yet rooted free. A puzzle, nature's playful game, terrestrial or space's claim? In twilight's glow, it takes its stance, A cosmic dance, a flowery trance. So ask again, and ponder deep, Is it a bloom, or stars that creep?

I remember a memory of an orange afternoon the glow wasn't yellow it was indeed an orange vision My brother lying on the table his warm forehead his voice hoarse he asked for bread Maybe it was an awakening maybe it’s just nothing but for me, I remember vividly that something is opening There is no heat nor warmth i'm overwhelmed but I am calm my mother napping on a bamboo couch I am in the kitchen, feeling surrounded I tied everything today to that colorful exhibition orange is so loud orange is so hard With all the weird things with all the unexplained I will always recall and return to that orange afternoon.