It springs from a well whose bricks were shaped by suffering
Molded in the heat of lost 'forevers'
She draws it
Plunging the bucket into the unfathomable depths of her being
She shows no fear
That the rope, sinews losing hold of each other through countless seasons
and kept together by an unreasonable force of will may snap
Forever denying her the means to retrieve her joy
Painstakingly she works her arms in the familiar motion
First her right, then her left,
drawing, pulling, clasping tightly to the sweat stained threads
Her hands calloused by the hard labour of life imprisonment in, Life
Wrap around the rope as a last hope.
Still she works
First her right, then her left
Until the old pail is in her hands again
Its emptiness discarded
She takes a moment and then she tips it over her worn frame
Allowing the sensation to completely embrace her in its warm familiarity
And then she drinks
And she drinks
and she drinks
Of her laughter
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 2:21 PM UTC
I am in this moment.
Now
Present
Aware
Sensing surroundings
Essence abounding
“Take care of yourself”
Heard often but hardly heard at all
Coz Now
I hear, and
Make myself a meal
Nourish
Drink a glass of wine
Cherish
Read, mind holding fast to words that whisper hope
Watch Saul Williams scream worlds into Existence
Words of resistance
I am aware
Of distant yearnings from who I would like to be
A me I wouId like… or maybe even love
So I listen to my soul
Whispering dreams
Murmuring hopes
Uttering flimsy futures floating on the wings of time
So much to learn
So much to see
So much to be
So much
But the journey seems long
So march…
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 5:47 PM UTC