Not only am I safe, I am, nestled in the womb of the universe whose body has not yet banished me to a space outside of it. Separated by skin. No. Not only am I safe, I am growing.
Growing not in the multiplication of my atoms but in the seeds reaped by my circumstance. Growing not by the sunlight that so generously offers self-sufficiency, but by the forceful hand of nature and earthly woes. Not only am I growing, I am climbing.
Climbing out of the rubble, as the earth crumbles below me. The only place I have to go is up. I must climb less I choose to fall into the trap that is this world. As the top of my head feels the cool clearing of daylight, I see further than I ever have before. Don’t let this world’s haze put you in a daze you never wiped away. There is so much more than what meets the eye.
Not only am I climbing, not only am I safe, I’ve come to realize that the universe, whose womb I crawled into attempting to turn my back on the woes of this earth, offers its love like a mother who’s body I rent out, giving nothing in exchange.
Not only am I safe, I am loved.