..it was transition on so many levels. lowly low on the self and the sound within. attempts to redirect thought.

and at times i felt like the mold beneath your floorboards

and that the sun had set on all future horizon's

and that i'd walk the path alone after all

and that the tiny voice was right all along..


but now i can sum it up as this.

the other day at work i had to pull blackberry from the meadow, pricked over and over by hundreds of tiny thorns, small dots of blood like maps, and i stood up and looked at the sky and saw one deer chasing another, and i felt happy, and ready to start again.

♥