One way or another, you get full. Mind and body pick up souvenirs some of your choosing, some say you have all the choice, but consider bystanders, and know we are moved by a larger hand. Still, it seems you can rank them when you wake one morning, replete and see the future, deer and oleander gliding ducks, silver path of jets sort it out - what will you carry, how far? You start rinsing in cold water, blessed and shuddering about the fortune that lands you in this place of many rivers Nianansipia, you might call it, a nod to history all you care to shoulder, care to push/ Jars of cacti spill their cool green scent of meagre feasting past, and you decide to fast, from time to time to measure and flex the connection to devotions not your own. That bird wears camouflage listen. You learned all this. And now with astonishing possible paths ahead and all you’ll ever need, arrayed in morning understanding, that the world is symphonic and wondrous, itself replete, go ahead. Choose to travel light, exhaling love. Twice blessed, once in the getting and now in releasing the pain, deciding the meaning of every stitch, scar, bent bone and spotted skin, those kicks to the heart didn’t break it other than open, the better to power your lift-off. Glide like a duck; you have living yet to do.
Image courtesy of Alain Audet on pixabay.com