So here I am again. The storm has passed. I feel like being alone. I have come to confide and know that no one will ever see this. I have a home somewhere. I have a home in the rain and on the grass that grows so tall and sways with the wind. I am a child. At the same time, I am tall. I speak winter and summer at the same time. I look for meaning and find it in a turtle swimming happily around lily pads. I find joy in watching the sunlight glitter through the leaves. If I watch that scene long enough, the colors look like paint and I think of the colors I would mix to depict that moment perfectly.
I just want to dance and scream and be loud today. I WANT TO BE LOUD. I want to hear my voice. I want to know that I AM ALIVE. Oh, today. Oh, today.
There are worries, of course. There are things to get done. It is to be expected. But, there is also breath and I refuse to be brought down. I REFUSE. I want to sway today like the branches on a willow tree. I want to walk barefoot over wet stones and feel my skin being drenched by the rain. I want to see water droplets run over my skin. I want to feel my hair wet and know that the wind is blowing above me. Oh, I so want to live. I so want to live and embrace and rejoice. I want to make love to the earth. I want to pretend that I am a fairy and that I can fly. But where am I flying? And must I fly alone?
