there are few feelings I have that seem to be as complex as feeling small. how can something, this one something invoke such terrifying reverence in me and extreme beauty. a grace in feeling small. an impossibility of comprehension in feeling small. it must be more so the word sublime. I suppose that is what I feel when I say I feel small. I am handled in a way that says we will break you, and the ocean says I will swallow you, and your hands say I will hold you, and the forest says I will loose you.
Published by Erin Rose Belair
I am multi-genre writer specializing in travel, ad-copy, and nonfiction prose. A recent graduate with my MFA I am spending my new found time rambling around the world, practicing yoga, and searching for the best salad ever. View all posts by Erin Rose Belair