I miss a feeling that I used to have far more often than I do, now.
It’s come to me, fleetingly, throughout my life.
A sense of abandon?
Concepts that are so starkly missing from other’s worlds’.
A song has just started, interrupting my mid-day responsibilities on a, particularly tough day, filling my body with this ol’feeling.
The feeling of,
Flying over country roads, county,
The sun warm, the breeze, dusty, and the music loud.
A shiny truck,
A smile of pride at the sight.
Broadened shoulders. A new tint in my iris.
But I could choose these moments, the unnameable flash because of memories. Sensations of thought tied to synapses that ricochet through me.
A cool green room, and a large tree, somehow always rustling.
A smell, of …
Soft sheets, the threads loved through siblings.
A song playing, ghostly, to remind me of what is possible.
A certain way the light falls through a window, or across a tree, prints this missive on my skin in invisible ink.
I have been given: hope, potential, faith
Which means I’ve always sensed that …
Each note points towards a shift.
An opportunity for me to be –
My patience had needed to grow, like an old farmer’s, trusting the path they’ve set.
My confidence had needed to settle over me, into my boots, covering me from head to toe to shade me from the harshness I’d hid from for so long.
I needed to build a supportive frame for my values; the path I walked to forge them, when recounted, causes most who listen to suggest an alternate path existed.
I don’t know, how, or when it all shifted. I feel steady. I feel sure. Even though the river is rushing around me as roughly as always.
I am grateful for these moments. Because we have a lot of work to do to make sure these synapses flit across everyone’s skin.
The current climate of the world has me processing things in different ways and striving to be different while remaining the same. Please be kind.