It’s a cycle
the same spectrum
the same notes
but it’s my limitations
that make them beautiful
it saddens and affects me
that I will never see the world like an insect or a bird.
I will always be within my confines
ultimately of course encompassing everything
when I finally pin down my true medium.
Will I be mindful of these whims?
Would I inhabit a beautiful mind with only curiosity and wonder
will I be tainted throughout
as I imagine all recycled material must become.