Can you miss what you’ve abandoned without befalling yourself to hypocrisy?
The interpretation tunneling beneath a conscious motivation to prove some retrospective point

That’s what we do

If I miss the parts of a soul that isn’t yet mine am I doomed to fall victim to the very same precept
I still miss what I had, who I was, where I stayed, and all it revealed was cessation and by no fault of my own
I’m worried that my revelations as a a prophetess or a preacher will someday confine me to what I teach as truth

Wander into the undirected
Turn your eyes where you came for nothing but a severing of the rope that ties you there
Tread barefoot until your toes reach a field that’s either filled with lavender, or a new path

Take your time to unwind, my ever new delight
Take time to be something
Something that is or isn’t
It’s insignificant whether you you make something new
Simply be

Oh you’ve seen the way the abysmal floor is speckled with pebbles and tears
Add your name to the list;
The rest of us have been there too
You pulled your way out.
Your hope never fell even when your heart did

So be gentle with your soul
It’s carried you this far
Create something you feel safe confiding in
Sit down, breathe deep, unwind, and
Be.

Wander into the undirected
Turn your eyes where you came for nothing but a severing of the rope that ties you there
Tread barefoot until your toes reach a field that’s either filled with lavender, or a new path

Earth was made to love
She was designed to cradle your head in her grasses
To warm your body and evaporate the tears on your cheeks with the sun
Her position makes your life possible
She was meant to be there to cool you off with midnight rain after you forgot what it felt like to be human
Her clouds were meant to shade you
let a few rays of light peak through
To darken the freckles on your cheeks
Her forests grew for you to explore
The stones on the path to be picked up and added to your jar
The sand to stick between your toes to remind you when you got home “hey, I’m still here”
The greatest tragedy is that we forget that she was made to love, and we were made to receive it

I’ve been spoken to countless times in the endurance of my existence
They speak to my mind
They expand on concepts and experiences wishing to hold my attention
I’ve learned and learned and gathered information to accumulate wisdom
I’ve read
I’ve listened
I’ve digested

How refreshing it is to have someone speak to my heart.

He embraced the chaos of teaching a soul the lessons he once had to learn as she painted his voice like the melody it became