sunflower
An insect on the windshield can be a difficult thing to comprehend; Do I squash it fast with my palm? I don't want the reminder of its life once lived impressed upon me, but I can't just leave it there to haunt me from its hiding place somewhere in the back of my car...
Time, luck, thrill, chance--
all the deciders of our fate?
What about one greater than luck
the perfecter of skills
The creator and keeper
of all talents
great and small,
known and secret?
To bloom is intended,
is beauty,
is creation;
to wither is needed,
is natural,
is determined--
is purpose.
I often wonder what it would be like to live as I am now--but on the ocean floor. To swim out my front door and feel seaweed and bits of coral slide between my toes--only to be suddenly swept up by a school of shining angel fish eager to kiss me and bring me someplace new.
towers fall down and my life falls apart. Schedules fill and so does my mind. Daily. Constantly. I have come to learn that chaos is structure in its own, beautiful sense. Like a symphony that doesn’t quite hit that right note, I go about my life “put together” but am secretly hanging on by a thread and dreaming of trading my heels in for a worn pair of sneakers–and I love every minute of it. Secretly.