Picture me dancing,
weaving in and out between big trees,
stopping briefly to hug them,
feeling the rough bark against my skin,
skipping on lily pads,
waving my arms with the tall grass,
bending my body in time to the concert of tree frogs and birdsong,
loving the day,
feeling the light,
inside shining out,
filled with joy,
knowing I'm where I need to be,
the path is crooked,
and sometimes rough,
but it's there,
if I choose to take it.
I'd forgotten that I had a choice to be happy. It's easy to do, mired deep in the mud of someone else's reality. But I'm getting better at remembering that I'm first, that no one is gonna be happy if I'm not clear and content within myself.
I found myself again, after being waylaid for a month. Not that I would do it any differently, because the chance to meet a beautiful soul is never to be passed by. I can't make anyone's choices for them, they will follow their own path. I think the pain is in watching the layers of lies and deceit accumulate like grease, dimming the light.