It’s crazy.
It’s crazy how one day can flip
245 days of
pseudo-plantation in fertilized ground
stomping to the beat of your own drum.
Roots as deep as ocean water over your toes:
one minute you’re wiggled under a blanket of security;
the next, exposed to splashes of salt water and uncovered rays of sunshine. That solid ground 0f 245 days fostered from
growth and new beginnings
is starting to feel less stable; more mushy.
stomping to the beat of your own drum.
Roots as deep as ocean water over your toes:
one minute you’re wiggled under a blanket of security;
the next, exposed to splashes of salt water and uncovered rays of sunshine. That solid ground 0f 245 days fostered from
growth and new beginnings
is starting to feel less stable; more mushy.
Mushy = Messy = Gross
Then one day, that “don’t
rain on my parade”
rocky-climbing-anthem-of-a-song you were just dancing to,
feels more like a blubbering mess of delusions
drawn by a blind person in a dark cave.
rocky-climbing-anthem-of-a-song you were just dancing to,
feels more like a blubbering mess of delusions
drawn by a blind person in a dark cave.
That day, is today.
That stumbling toddler who forgot how to walk,
is me.
As I sit on my bum with t-rex baby arms
outreaching to the sky, pouty lip and all
afraid to walk.
I’m reminded. . .
“but Child, you already know how.”
Emotions are constant. While volatile, misbehaving,
creatures of change they promise one thing - - remaining stagnant is not in
their cards. So although, I’m slightly taken
aback by that lingering tingle in my heart, I can’t say I’m surprised that they
move me so.
(late post from 4/2/14)
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