(Final Edit)
As all the stars move together,
They shine like rain in the forest.
Moving ever deeper in my mind,
As crafted shapes that light the darker hours.
But in mind are these things perfect?
Or is perfection first in being?
Where will light shine in the Elder Valley?
I am rays of light;
Coming back with little hands from the dust.
But what am I in my humanity?
That things come to me as they do.
For I am known to not be perfect.
But what then am I in being?
And does being make me stronger?
Am I perfect in the wind when I forget myself?
And if I allow myself to be only myself,
Would I then leave perfection if perfection implies existence?
My thoughts move slowly in a billion little sounds.
And each of these is a place of remembrance.
Why can I think of perfection when I am not perfect?
Holding me now,
Is flowers that cover the ocean.
For the ocean is my mind,
If I ever find the time,
To think of this again.
(First Human Draft)
Moving like the planets
Rain is in my little forest.
This I can see.
Yet is being in perfection?
Or does perfection consist first of being?
Where does my light shine to you in the elder valley?
I am little rays of light.
Coming out of dust with my hands again.
What is myself in my humanity?
That these things come to me as they do.
For I am known to not be perfect.
Yet, if I am in being
Then does the being in myself make me stronger?
Am I perfection in the wind if I forget myself?
And if I allow myself to only be myself,
Then would I leave perfection if perfection implies existence?
My thoughts move slowly with a billion sounds.
And each of these sounds is a space for recollection.
Why can I think of perfection when perfection I am not?
Please hold me now,
My ocean of flowers.
For this ocean is my mind,
If I ever find the time,
To think of this again.
(Second AI Draft Text Reworder http://ai-writer.com)
To move like the planets
It is raining in my little forest.
I can see that.
But is it in perfection?
Or is perfection first in being?
Where does my light shine for you in the Elder Valley?
I am little rays of light.
Come back with my hands from the dust.
What am I in my humanity?
That these things come to me as they do.
Because I am known for not being perfect.
But when I am in being
Does being in me make me stronger then?
Am I perfect in the wind when I forget myself?
And if I allow myself to be only myself,
Then would I leave perfection if perfection implies existence?
My thoughts are slowly moving with a billion sounds.
And each of these sounds is a place of remembrance.
Why can I think of perfection if I am not perfection?
Please hold me now,
My flower sea.
Because this ocean is my mind,
If I ever find the time,
To think again.