of flat-silvered bark,
greeting the willowy morning.
coffee rough cut
ink made love
emotion in real time
The light is changing. It means the bark of the forest outside my window. . . is changing. Flat-silvered bark is the color of winter here. It is beautiful; quiet. It resides at the back of my head and between my ears; deep-somewhere(s) within my heals.
I like feeling these things. Energetic others calling me; smile-whispers.
I had another walking dream. They are so real. I awake thinking all is right with the world. Somehow I just know my problems are over. poof! Then, smack! Reality of a dream becomes nightmare of day.
It was only a dream. In this moment when as a child you find comfort in those words; it was only a dream; now, you sink into the covers wanting only the dream.
Silver mist translucence makes way for the thick-swift stability of trees’ anticipation. Spring is patient. So too must I. So too can I.
What is the Fib today? The lie I tell myself? That life is forever changed. and somehow that is a bad thing. What rubbish.
Indeed. Life is changed. And, life is unknown. And, is this not true for every single creature animate and inanimate here today?
Change is what discovery is made of! These thick-swift trees are so smart! Anxieties that desire to keep me within these four walls also speak truth. Rawness. Vulnerability. Strength. Patience.
There are many facing fears and struggles. Loved ones. Family. Friends. Strangers. Example your truth. Tell your story. Maybe it is simply with a smile. a handshake. standing; side by side.
Maybe it is in the example. Compassion in hopelessness. Listening to the voice with abiding love. naked love.
Walking in the dream. Why not! Who says a dream is not real. There are many ways to walk. so walk on world. you do; so therefore do I.
paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower