It's mornings like these when I wonder how we all manage to go on this way. The sun will always rise again, conquering the shadows that we face in our dreams, the nightmares that wake us with quick hearts and fast breaths. Each step unsure, faltering, bare feet on a dirt path through the grove in my soul, watching the sunlight glitter through the trees. So easy to close my eyes and lose myself in the fragrance of the early morning mist, the scent of rain. The image of darkening skies, the sun just beyond reach as the heavens break loose with tears of angels and men. So easy to imagine the wind on my bare flesh as I run, heart pounding, until there is nothing beyond my feet dancing over the dirt and the burning in my lungs urging me to stop though I push myself harder until I collapse on a mossy bank, the cool water of a stream dancing mist across me, changing the angry heat of my flesh to a pleasant temperature.
So very easy to forget where I am in these cold steel walls, concrete and cityscapes abound, noise and pollution and purity lost forever, destroyed for the sake of the "advancement of society."
So very hard to ignore the calling in my soul, the blood that runs through my veins. Who and what I am.
It's simply impossible.
(isn't it?)