Rhumble
Rock piled on rock, the tower rising high toward the firmament of heaven. None may penetrate! A lofty and secure perch from which to stare out – and down – upon the world. So long in the gutter, so rare to be safe, so odd to have stronghold. But it could protect. And keep. And hold off. And it was warm. And safe. And private. After so long, nothing could disturb, no one could influence, no one could discern. It was only then that the lack of a door became MOST apparent.
Once wet and juicy, it had slowly given up its moisture, darkened and dried, pretending to be as the dust that surrounded it. How it came to live in such inhabitable conditions is a mystery, but still it persisted. Still it remained. Because it was hardy. It was true. It was. How could it be anything beyond its nature? And like the succulent that waits for the rain – its only purpose is to be filled... and then to bloom.
Fly. Be invisible. Super strong!
Not me. My superpower would be to undo.
Not the chance to make fewer mistakes, but to make more of them.
To risk, to take chances, to not just hope and dream, but to reach and do.
I wouldn’t undo heartbreak, I would undo causing it. I wouldn’t undo mistakes, I would undo harm. I wouldn't undo accidents, I would undo damage. I wouldn’t undo anger, I would undo fear.
And then I would do.