Venturing out, green, red, orange. The smell. Soil.
Fire and ice. Inside outside. All around.
Foliage, hanging. Growing, Weeping.
Our hearts, growing, weeping, hanging …
Out. Vulnerable. That thing that they said you weren’t, then used against you.
Now safe. Open.
Dancing like the fire, woman-flames, naked, weaving, warming, burning, destroying.
Old and new, created. Fire, the destroyer and creator.
A story some day. They walk through the rubble, fresh, green shoots up through cracked concrete.
That one way, life. Chernobyl.
Pushing against our own destruction.
Wildflowers through snow. Tumbling, dogs. Slippery slides.
3″? 4″? Den, slide, roll, play, munch.
A million miles an hour, stop.
Look around, see, smell.
Run, run, bounce, run, hop.
Another day, another show, another game, another canvas.
Life, writing – colors, currently white, white, and more white. A beautiful beginning, in a few months: color!
For now, color inside! Outside the lines. Wisps of fabric billowing, colors everywhere. Warmth, upbeat, excitement, cozy and free.
Finally . . .
That elusive thing.
That was had then popped by that other thing.
Finally . . .
Storing stuff. So sanctuary.
Ten things, once. Upon a midnight dreary.
Tigers singing, screaming, clawing. Friends, still there, but also not. Quiet. Knew this would happen. Missing.
New friends. New people. New places. To get out there again. Coffee dates. Dinner. Hiking.
Forcing to write, because otherwise is mental blockage. Another way, another route. Also music. Playing. Change.
New and novel. Things we share. Things some avoid. Things I must embrace.
Not even halfway there. Didn’t think I’d make it this far.
Little steps. Baby steps. That movie.
That one time, together. You, me. New, novel, fun. Blinded by the awesome, ignored the rest.
The rest…. the rest…. the rest…..
Was so much more important.
Now change. Different you. Different me. Dyads, triads, solo.
Solo is good. Autonomy. Freedom. Liberation. Joy.