Where the Sky

The air hums with something nameless,

a quiet song stitched into the wind.

I step forward, barefoot on the breathing earth,

where walls do not rise,

where the sky spills open like an unspoken dream.

The world stretches beyond edges,

mountains folding into mist,

rivers carving the stories they never tell.

Somewhere, the sun scatters itself across the sea,

each wave carrying a piece of light

to places I will never see—

and yet, somehow, I belong to them.

But then—

a shift, a pause, a knowing.

Because freedom is not just flight,

not just the absence of walls.

It is the weightlessness of standing still

and feeling the universe move around you,

the way the tide bows to the shore,

the way the wind does not ask permission

to touch the tallest branches.

So I stand here, beneath an unbroken sky,

where nothing holds me in—

and nothing holds me back.