Wednesday, October 12, 2005

Emerging Me

Quiet house. Light a candle. The music sings behind me from another room. So much to little time, as the old adage says. Not old, not young, just on the verge. Just realizing that this timeless state means possibility. Could it be that the haze is lifting, that a new season is about to begin? My perspect turns outward instead of in. The air is different now, and I can breathe. Oxygen to fill my lungs. Oxygen to clear my head. Oxygen to keep the candle lit. Stay lit a little longer for inspiration, for warmth...for light; let my wings span this dark cocoon.


Post a Comment

<< Home