You are always free to return…
(not my photo - just one I loved)
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Coming and going, but where am I?
Perhaps, you and I, in the wavering flux…
Perhaps so sloshed from the quick-hit buzz that a gritty clean start is the only high left.
A jagged split in the sodden wall…
The sadness breaks to release new life…
Shackles snap in a burst of speed… Mustangs gallop in the mountain grass…
Too many years spent hesitant… We forgot that sprinting is the purpose already…
A growing new vision about what is real…
Free again in the land beyond I.
