What Moves Through Me

Some things don’t come from us. They move through us. A poem about creativity, sensation, and the way things move through me.

March 19, 2026


What Moves Through Me

I think in words and phrases
that flow and dance in an untamed rhythm
brushing against minds
awakening the unraveling of emotion

I see in colors and shapes
that stir and collide in wild delight
hungry to bathe in souls
sparking something restless in imagination

I hear in the space just before the music breaks
vibrating and trembling in movement
rising to meet the body
where wonder quietly opens

I taste in bitterness and sweetness
biting and blooming in pleasure
spreading through the spirit
revealing what I didn’t know was there

I feel in love and joy
living and breathing in endless becoming
settling into your hearts
opening the door
and staying still


Take a minute. Let it move through you.

With love, still becoming,
xoxo ~amy

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