"I hope you will go out and let stories happen to you, and that you will work them, water them with your blood and tears and your laughter till they bloom, till you yourself burst into bloom. " ~Clarissa Pinkola Estes

Sunday, January 27, 2013

small stone: day twenty-seven

There are days I curse my head.
The busy. The old tapes that incessantly play...
The could-haves, should-haves, would-haves,
if only.
Too many words, but not enough words.
Too much music, but never enough music.
Freedom calls to me like the birds that wing their way to somewhere,
anywhere.
Bring me there.
Give me those wings that will make me soar.
Loosen up my voice to fly on the wind.
Like those birds that wing their way to somewhere,
anywhere.
Bring me there.


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