What Is... Poem by Sommer Billingsley

What is…

A frequency traveling, when parallel a vibration, oneness that awakens, Such a Miraculous sensation.
As Colors of light we shun, a karma left undone.
Waves rolling ashore, the hand at which is born.
Crustacean of the night, one day take flight.
Destination seems unknown, but, above all souls are sewn. Dominatrix of the night, causing such a tide.
Fate at which we are, destined to be a star.
A mathematical equation of life, at which parasitic existence hides. Game should be the name, a dream at which were played.

So once again we choose, this world as our muse.
Sun to dust we are, atoms forever formed.

As the caterpillar meditates, a universe transcends all that really is.