Isn’t it kind of beautiful,
how we’re all but a tessellation of moments?

The individual pieces might not look like much
broken even
and sometimes we might be tempted to cast them aside
but if we only hold on a little longer
only look a little closer

in due time

we’ll see them all come together
to reveal the just of who we are

the joys, the pains, the memories
in a colourful, dissonant synergy
creating mosaics so intricate
you will be drawn in and in awe ask yourself
“how did this happen?”
while they will revel in the mystery
of becoming without making sense.

Isn’t it kind of beautiful
how we’re all made up of a bunch of tiny broken pieces?


2 thoughts on “Tessellations.

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