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While Listening to Independent Music Radio

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And in that moment,
I looked above myself to find
A single, white-hot star

Drowned in the dark ocean of cosmic fabric.



And in that moment,
I understood how, several millennia ago,
Man felt such a connection with those nebulas,
An understanding inside the Soul of the Universe,
And knew that whatever it was, it expanded across billions of light years,
Yet was contained inside his own soul,
And so he named it God.

And in that moment,
I felt the fragments of my stained-glass soul
And the melodies that glued them together
Five fathoms beneath my skin.
I felt their pain and bliss,
And I understood that all souls are a collection
Of fragments that have fallen across generations.
Fragments that mix and match,
Not once repeating inside an individual soul,
But externally come together
Into a magnificent song,
An orchestrated harmony with notes and choruses and crescendos and codas
That are scattered across the insides of humans
And collectively, create the Song of the Soul of the Universe,
Or God.

And in that moment,
I felt the stirring of every soul whose counterpart was within mine,
Ariel and Santiago and Vanessa,
And I knew that my bones are made of coral
In the same way that I hear my heartbeat and know
That I could never ask for more than this moment,
This revelation of Truth,
That despite whom I fall in love with,
Whom I place my faith in,
Whom I let go,
I am human.


And in that moment,
When I finally agreed to devote my life
To the poetic documentation of alchemical moments like these,
My father turned the radio dial.
I heard their empty, capitalistic banter,
And that moment disappeared into an ocean of moments
For me to rediscover someday when I need it most.

As all moments do.



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