Hint of Pink

spilling
open from the seams
consumed
by this twisted
messy
scattering of mental elastics
she uses to weave all the second-guessing questions
that vine and root
into her everyday
and exhaustively searching for
that concept of contentment known as
enough
the knowledge that the here and now
not the impossibly perfectionist standards
imposed by those deceptive strings
is more than ok

when gravity comes calling
what keeps one from the inevitable
the misshaping force field
that pulls one towards earth
tumble
what provides an invisible pillowy parachute
that stalls the fall
and allows an absorbing moment
to hover
offering enough support
to reflect in recline
and float
in this temperate limbo
where one learns to gracefully
gently
surrender to the slow decline

found in contrasting light. through learning loving and sharing. her silly serious self. she flourishes. sharing the most harrowing moments over lemon ginger tea. loving so far that this heart and her hugs span multiple continents. and learning that no matter her age she can still ball up and fit in a hamper. playfully discovering. the ever changing character of she.

confusion against cumulus forms. confine. entangled in delusion. these layers of thinly veiled critiques. that constrict. bind. warp and weave a web of growing weight. that’s sewn into every moment. and covering the truth in unrealistic aspirations. this deceptively strong silk. i hope it can fray. in billowing winds of renewed determination. unravel. and find peace with what is revealed beneath.

(Photo credit: @dreamsonstrike)

when did october arrive. each descending leaf a fallen marker of time’s slippage. cascading their chilly change down upon the unprepared. autumn. burnt umbers fiercely signify fall days. sheepish yellows delicately dance in cooler breezes. and fading greens cave to autumn’s call. they all attempt to mask their shivers in brilliant camouflage. while i cling to the end of brighter days.

 

these light falls. cast reminders of long drawn lazy days. that feel never ending until the days bolt by in their hundred year dash. and one wonders where the missed opportunities went. how we got here. chaotic crusaders. constantly contorting under time constraints. where the tiniest tick will topple balance. tock to imbalance. and we sometimes struggle to juggle it all.

 

hacking through weeded ways. we take a moment. pause. assess the dangers. the excitement ahead. absorb and calculate every potential path. cautiously scanning our surroundings. trepidation. will we become prey or predator. stand idle or pounce. leap over obstacles into unknown growth. and pronounce ourselves here. warriors. in those hesitating seconds opportunity draws closer. eyes us. and is headed this way.

 

sauntering into summer. this pale creature emerges. huntress. with each day adding golden minutes. she stalks sunny possibilities. aglow amongst the wildflowers. she hears adventure’s song swell. on dandelion breezes. calling for a chase. when the weeds quiver. stir. show signs of prey. quickly the huntress turns. calm excitement hangs in the air. she eyes her prize. and begins the hunt.

when the anxiety of maneuvering all the plot points builds. into a flurry of check marks on to-do lists. missed comms. what-ifs. each new idea splintering into infinite opportunities. cascading cacophony. swirling together until one final piece. linchpin. locks into place. transforms the anxiety. from stressful stomach knots. to excited butterflies. who relish this plan. and settle into a balanced state.