We are born reaching
hands empty but already
shaped
like questions.
We learn the weight of time
by losing what we love -
first toys, then people
then versions of ourselves.
Hunger drives us forward:
for touch, for meaning
for proof
that this brief spark matters.
We build names, stories,
nations, gods,
trying to steady the ground
beneath us.
We hurt each other
by accident or on purpose,
and spend our lives learning
the difference.
Joy arrives unannounced,
a laugh, a morning light,
someone saying our name and
meaning it.
The Sensual Soul Poet, by Heather Mirassou
A personal blog sharing heartfelt poetry inspired by sensuality, love, nature, beauty, and soulful reflection.
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2 responses to “The Weight of Time – by Heather Mirassou”
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Yes my friend.
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Joy arrives unannounced,
a laugh, a morning light. yes
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