Sneaking in at the last moment

A promise to myself to create, interrupted by responsibility, fatigue, and clutter.

sneaking away from the bed and placing my worn body into the warm bath.

Making room for rotting, silence, and aloneness.

coming back to my promises in the dark of the night because my why is far greater than my why not.

I rage against losing my creative mind, my resilient body, and my deep knowings.

I soften to the stillness, the silliness, and the searching.

A complex of emotions from deep gratitude to vast wondering.

A dream so big and so real I can taste it but a path clouded and lost to me in the in between. Trusting that the home in the meadow, near the river, lush with vegetation and community is just waiting its turn as I wind my way down the road nearing closer and closer.

Always following the warmth and trusting that all the wisdom I have collected will guide me there.