“Your now is not your forever.”
― John Green, Turtles All the Way Down
In theory, the world is perfect.
Lines are straight.
Trees are regular and unbroken.
The sky is even.
A hummingbird is insignificant in the mighty blue canvas.
The world is filled with glorious imperfections.
Lines swirl in circles and swallow our theories.
Trees are jagged and rough with exhaustion.
The sky is a crooked embrace.
A hummingbird holds the universe at heart.
In theory, I am only a theory of what I could/should/must be.
In response to the one-word prompt: Theory