{"id":1433,"date":"2022-08-24T09:33:40","date_gmt":"2022-08-24T09:33:40","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/janellkayebaliles.com\/?page_id=1433"},"modified":"2022-08-24T09:41:01","modified_gmt":"2022-08-24T09:41:01","slug":"jungle","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/janellkayebaliles.com\/?page_id=1433","title":{"rendered":"Jungle"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t
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<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n

<\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

There is something that I love about a city,
And…
The way the hungry growl of buses snatches away any semblance of peace,
And in the parks,
The pigeons swoop and soar like pterodactyls.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

The earth fights back;
Our bones are gold glitter and dust,
Formed of the stars above us and the
Dirt deep deep beneath our feet.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Frail, fragile, like those silver cobwebs.
One wrong wind and…<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

They say our limits are the path we are to walk upon,
And this dependence on\u00a0
The God who rides upon the clouds,
Is altogether purposeful.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

The world is a heaving sea and there is static between me
And heaven.
All I hold is cryptic letters and\u00a0
The sigh of the wind.\u00a0<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

It’s ok to be broken,
To not have it together.
Ok to
Feel it all or
Nothing,
To meet with locked emotions or
Waterfalls and
if the day passes with just
Bookends of the sun
And all the pages blank
Or written in another tongue,
It’s ok.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Remember,
You are dust,
The glittering sort,
And small.
The world is tangled.
But watch,
The King is coming,
Humble and…<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Somedays the breeze whispers louder
Than the screech of sirens,
And the stars outshine
The city lights.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div><\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t<\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

There is something that I love about a city,
And…
The way the hungry growl of buses snatches away any semblance of peace,
And in the parks,
The pigeons swoop and soar like pterodactyls.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

The earth fights back;
Our bones are gold glitter and dust,
Formed of the stars above us and the
Dirt deep deep beneath our feet.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Frail, fragile, like those silver cobwebs.
One wrong wind and…<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

They say our limits are the path we are to walk upon,
And this dependence on\u00a0
The God who rides upon the clouds,
Is altogether purposeful.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

The world is a heaving sea and there is static between me
And heaven.
All I hold is cryptic letters and\u00a0
The sigh of the wind.\u00a0<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

It’s ok to be broken,
To not have it together.
Ok to
Feel it all or
Nothing,
To meet with locked emotions or
Waterfalls and
if the day passes with just
Bookends of the sun
And all the pages blank
Or written in another tongue,
It’s ok.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Remember,
You are dust,
The glittering sort,
And small.
The world is tangled.
But watch,
The King is coming,
Humble and…<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Somedays the breeze whispers louder
Than the screech of sirens,
And the stars outshine
The city lights.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div><\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

There is something that I love about a city,
And…
The way the hungry growl of buses snatches away any semblance of peace,
And in the parks,
The pigeons swoop and soar like pterodactyls.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

The earth fights back;
Our bones are gold glitter and dust,
Formed of the stars above us and the
Dirt deep deep beneath our feet.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Frail, fragile, like those silver cobwebs.
One wrong wind and…<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

They say our limits are the path we are to walk upon,
And this dependence on\u00a0
The God who rides upon the clouds,
Is altogether purposeful.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

The world is a heaving sea and there is static between me
And heaven.
All I hold is cryptic letters and\u00a0
The sigh of the wind.\u00a0<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

It’s ok to be broken,
To not have it together.
Ok to
Feel it all or
Nothing,
To meet with locked emotions or
Waterfalls and
if the day passes with just
Bookends of the sun
And all the pages blank
Or written in another tongue,
It’s ok.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Remember,
You are dust,
The glittering sort,
And small.
The world is tangled.
But watch,
The King is coming,
Humble and…<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Somedays the breeze whispers louder
Than the screech of sirens,
And the stars outshine
The city lights.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div><\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

There is something that I love about a city,And…The way the hungry growl of buses snatches away any semblance of peace,And in the parks,The pigeons swoop and soar like pterodactyls. The earth fights back;Our bones are gold glitter and dust,Formed of the stars above us and theDirt deep deep beneath our feet. Frail, fragile, like…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-1433","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/janellkayebaliles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1433","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/janellkayebaliles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/janellkayebaliles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/janellkayebaliles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/janellkayebaliles.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1433"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/janellkayebaliles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1433\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1436,"href":"https:\/\/janellkayebaliles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1433\/revisions\/1436"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/janellkayebaliles.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1433"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}