What is it like?

It's like being possessed

And getting you're mind focused

Like a magnifying glass

On an ant that doesn't

Burn.

Staring off into the distance.

But it all makes sense.

Past, present, and future

All happening at the same time.

For the first time it makes sense.

Never have I felt great pain,

But I understand it,

Never have I cried like that,

But I can describe it,

I can  see it,

I can see her,

grasping her chest,

knees to the ground,

face to the sky,

eyes closed,

mouth open,

lungs empty,

eyes full,

I can see her trying so hard not to cry,

and instead she struggles to breathe,

as the greatness of her grief

engulfs her.

I can see it,

because i have been given the gift

to know without experience.

Wisdom with God.

I can see it.

Never have I walked in that place

And set my legs upon a new path

climbing mountains and grazing daisies

All whilst following a deer

and her kin

But I know it is magical all the same.

It's like being possessed

By an angel,

That is what it is like

To write.