Hour 16, Transition

As though the cells of my body
have transitioned to another place,
translated into a future me
I do not yet recognize,
my mind stumbles clumsily behind,
aching to be reunited.

I float within this space,

gathering wool round the edges
of my tiny universe,
knitting a reality I can comprehend,
yearning to transform desert dust
into rich brown earth,
twisted saplings to towering trees.

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