what happened to the fearless dreams. of conquering my world. one caped adventure at a time. what am i working towards. offerings that fulfill one need. while simultaneously shadow my light. what if the world split. into avenues of exploration. one joined and the other solo. a fantasy. utopia without decisions. where the shaded live as fully as the bright. for long have i waded in between. that space of stretching thin. asking if i dare leave duality behind.
coolness infused in the changing breezes. sky paints its purple shades ever earlier. and my floral polka dots stubbornly refuse to let go of it. the end of summer. taking in the view of shifting seasons. i stall. in hope that time will extend the warmth of juligust into the future. when a rustling behind interrupts. that hungry sound. a growl bellowing from within a lively, wild growth. its leaves prick at my sides. as branches suckle me in. glossy dusk-dew envelopes my skin. our stems intertwine. and i’m lost in perpetual green.
instructions for the magic hour. wear your best peacock fashion. vibrantly compete with the sun. find flight to kiss the clouds. cotton candy just above. join the particles of dancing life. little glits bobbing on breezes. take a handful of fairy’s dust. release all around. forget the ground. and believe.
ripened by the sun. ready to be plucked. bursting with bite. a sun-fruit budding. left unharvested. forgotten in the shadows. on the verge of decay. but the fruit clings on. raw. tart. and unforgiving. the remainder of an equation in compromise. waiting on forces to shake her loose. the right energy to come along. for gravity to win.
with wings one can bend and reach and soar in the open air of the world. discover delicate gems of memory building blocks. but what awaits the birdess upon returning. the nest. a space in need of sprucing to perfection. the dreaded stillness. juggernaut filling the airy aftermath. the need. of rooting talons into each day. but hard to ignore these restless sky-longing feathers. that crave the instability of up. perhaps they are wiser to a core nature. one of contradictions. and sometimes the grounding is above.