In this moment i feel fine. Not trapped like falls foliage under neath winters white blanket. Neither do i feel free Like the fowl that flew south. I feel somewhere in the awkward middle ground between Flight and containment. But what a beautiful feeling. I may not be airbourne, Honking with the lively flock of beasts Seeking asylum from winters Chillful howls. But at least im above ground. And thats encouraging.
Just jotting a little poem. Alot of people go through hell this time of year. Some have the best times of their lives. Just happy to be riding the in between. Merry xmas every body.