Circles and loops and forms and
The more I review, the more I see. How did I not see it?
Distance and Hindsight.
A beautiful, sunny day. Cold. Running, playing, not bending over.
Some things the same, others also the same.
Fly away little birdie.
The horizon holds the secret.
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 . . .