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I am alone.
I am the protector and the keeper of a sacred light.
I cannot let this beacon go out.
I must continue to shine.
Just as the stars must continue to burn, distant, constant, and white.

The ocean is never still,
however people continue to cross it- no matter its unpredictability;
a heart never stops beating,
however, no matter how much fortification you have around it,
you should treat it as a miracle, and marvel at every beat
as if it were your last;
and cherish every breath like a flame that dances between life and infinity.

I feel a dream-wave come over me
and then immediately wash me out to sea,
to the realm of the dream-maker:
I dream that I am on a boat traversing through an icy sea,
as I stare up at the stars above me in the sky
from the bow of an unstoppable and mighty ice-breaker.

I am awoken again by a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder,
but the sky and the sea are calm, clear, and golden, so far-
looking out now you could so easily mistake what you see for a dream,
because the vista of the vast water
is more akin visually right now
to a beautiful sunrise landscape on Mars.

I pass from day into night so easily.
I welcome the arrival of the moon,
just as I cherish the rise of the sun.
I can go from walking under the stars in the dark,
to hearing and seeing every detail of day life
while on a morning run.

When I see the light of others go out around me,
I mourn their passing as if I were mourning the loss of something inside of me,
that for every hour that passes continues to mean something deeper.
I cherish the memory and the light of others,
just as I cherish the light within me that shines for all the world to see;
because I am a dreamer, because I am a guardian of hope,
because I am a lighthouse keeper.

Some people go through their entire lives
still holding-on to a dream;
some just need to find the right person at the right time
to elevate them from wannabe philosopher and poet
into something and someone who makes a difference when they speak.

I never had lofty dreams while growing up-
not unless you count those daydreams of mine when I was a kid,
when I dreamed of what it would be like to be an astronaut;
I never thought that I could play a part in the world,
until I met the muse who would overcome all boundaries
and shatter all concepts of reality-
whose inspiration has always guided my path and given me support.

I never thought that my words would carry farther
than the eyes and the ears of someone near and dear,
until I was gifted a wish to be granted by a dream-maker
to echo the words of my life to the entire world-
as should be the purview of the poet of the sphere.

In my hands I am holding my life’s words
in a book with my face on the front-cover,
as if I were holding my own heart;
I cannot tell you how incredible and epic this moment is-
to me, it is as if I have painted a picture
and now that painting has come to life,
and I am now meeting the face for the first time
of my own work of art.

Holding my own book of poetry, my life, in my hands
and seeing my parents, my sister, cry tears of happiness at the sight;
hearing how proud my family and my friends are of me
is what I live for, and it is why I write.

“Poet of the Sphere” is but the start for me-
I have so much that I want to do, to experience, and so much that I want to say;
there will never be enough words in my vocabulary,
nor enough hours in a single day.

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