Everytime i think i will wake up to black clouds
dissected across the middle with blue tails of the sky
breaking over leaves,like little blue soldiers of spring
landing on my eyebrows and elevating the soul of winter
i wake up to black clouds that never came by,
Never stopped to even giggle at this lost
interpretaion of mine,of the sill being closest
to the darkest place in my heart
"this lost interpretation of mine"
ReplyDeleteThat little phrase is part of my life fabric right now. It may be lost, or seem lost, but it is still my interpretation and my movement out of that. It is my truth in the moment and how do I live elsewise and still be true to myself? Although the clouds, for me they thunder. They thunder loudly that my interpretation is wrong.
Annie,
ReplyDeleteI think they thunder because you have all the rain...all the storms coming your way...Nothing kills your spirit more than "nothing wanting to kill it"....Fight my friend