Poetic axons

Poetic Axons

My mind is a constellation
a thousand little stars
burning questions, fragments of wonder
an orchestra of scattered light
and the silence in between.

I see the world through stained-glass patterns
each moment a prism
light refracting into lessons I’ve come to know
before the others have.
I read the rhythm of wind against brick walls
the language of shadows dancing across sidewalks
and I listen to the whispers in the cracks
because every crack has a story.

Some call it thinking differently
but I think it’s just seeing from angles
the horizon never showed them.
While others search for answers in footprints
I find meaning in the spaces left behind
where no one else thought to look.
I’ve learned that wisdom isn’t always loud.
It isn’t always in the fire or the shouting winds.
Sometimes wisdom is stillness
and I have become familiar with stillness.

The trees taught me patience
how roots dig deep
while leaves sway in surrender.
And family, the ancient kind of love
exists in the smallest things
a shared glance at a table
the sound of laughter reaching the other room
the shared knowledge of a knowing sigh
when words feel too heavy to speak.
They are my home, my gravity
the quiet pieces of my life that hold me here
that remind me I am tethered to the soil
even when I soar.

But I have walked my own paths
a different kind of rhythm in my bones
a melody composed not by uniformity
but by strange notes
unexpected chords
and the kind of words that feel like rain.

Every mistake is a verse
every heartbreak is a stanza
every moment of joy, a chorus
and I have learned that life is poetry in motion
never linear
never straightforward
but always a lesson
always an invitation to learn the next verse.

I’ve learned that life doesn’t judge your choices
it simply offers experience
a gift in every encounter
and my neurons have become like little ink pens
writing the lessons
writing the stories
writing the dance between joy and fear
between grief and hope.

I am me
not because it’s the easiest choice
but because every path I’ve walked has taught me that truth has weight
and I trust that even in uncertainty it will carry me forward.

I used to think peace was somewhere out there
some destination
but peace isn’t a point you arrive at.
It’s the slow way your body learns to trust the wind
the way your soul learns to find quiet in motion
in imperfection, in surrender.

The truth is you don’t fight your way through the storms.
You learn to float with them.
You learn to listen to their song
to let their rhythm shape you
instead of breaking you.

So here’s my advice
don’t wait for the winds to stop.
Learn to dance with them.
Because they will always be moving
but so will you.

Let your steps be deliberate
but let them come from the heart
the storms shape the trees and the stars alike
both beautiful in their bending
both resilient in their reaching.

And you are more like the wind than you think
stronger, freer, capable of reshaping the sky.

note from author: this poem is a little different from the rest, but I figured I’d experiment a bit, it speaks on how I see the world through my eyes and how my mind is wired (hence the word axon in the title) I hope yo guys enjoy!