the manic crests and crashes of life. produce fluctuating moods. but when warmer updrafts prevail. latch on. ride that bundle of balloons. their colorful flurry of fun uplifting you to lighter elevations. to moments outside the madness. and when the gravitational pull of reality feels too strong. know. one can always find simple spheres to elevate. and help you feel free.
after too many colorless sailing days. a swell of gold highlights harbor. ahoy. i have landed. washed up on familiar shores. with boulders built from eroded memories. to rediscover lost loves that were always there. guides. faintly fizzing in crashing waves. waiting to carry me back. willing. across the stress seas. to exciting uneven ground. that induce the need for ready.
fear. that fickle captor. bringing about constraint. blinders. convincing there is safety behind the ignorance. in the forgetful fog of contentment. but the doubtful chants begin to quietly echo. question existence. divide down my layers to a remainder of vulnerability. naked. exposed. in the raw openness is where change dawns. and one can finally dare to peek out of the darkness.
we each have a path. it twists and winds and spills forth. intertwining with other trails. at times easily swept into the draining effort of comparison. her leaves are thicker. his fruit more vibrant. but those false values hold one back. limit the growth of our own grove. for this journey is our own. sacred. and ripe for every unique bloom.
the sways and sashays of dizzying dying days of summer. heated moments resulting in pendulum moods. that swing from bloated boredom to glowing elation. and twirl back for another round of emotional roulette. where senses are winners. and in the glowing breeze of august. against the crashing contrast. i feel buoyant. airy. swept into the embers of this season’s tumultuous flame.
my polka dots drain. run. scatter. melting away from my essence. artifacts of creative avenues. once cultivated. giving rise to novel expressions. bubbles of boundless wonders. but now escape in purposeless puddles. helpless against the abyss of loss. the little light left. flooding dark rooms with opportunity. i reach for it. a disoriented damsel. in desperate search for new dotting techniques.
the horizon awaits my ready soul. a tentative connection. promising in its appearance. but fragile in the core. still structurally developing. building. storing life deposits into a strand. a delicate dna. that extends endlessly. over fractal waves. that simultaneously pull to push away. where swirling sands of our shores meet. and the sky paints the memory of today. in glowing union.
primal. the urge to expand. tap in to ancient tools. nestled under the thinking. skills laced on genes. providing foundations for undiscovered futures. knit together. earth and atmosphere. an enchanting marriage that sirens the thirsty traveler deep inside. the one that drives adrenaline-filled vehicles. plays precarious pastimes. says go go go. and wings unfurl. chest opens. to unleash the wild within.
light disintegrates. ticking away. inch by inch. before swallowing energies leave a hopeful glow. sliver reminders that once dreams flourished in this head space. that bobs just above drowning. where unique air grows stale. and motivations shoved aside. a fragment remains. softly whispering forgotten fantasies. while my polka dots bleed into stripes. losing sight of own. and dissolve into others.
intertwined with inner exploration. when rudely interrupted. plucked by the giants of the world. pigeonholed into a corrugated cage. of expectation and labels. a confining box with seemingly no escape. but there are cracks in these limits. holes of hope. and inventive light protrudes. to reach above what appears impossible. my captor nowhere in sight. i surrender the only ceiling is me.