"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

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

small stone: of droplets and promised sun

I sink my feet into the damp earth, seeing the grass unfurl its rich green between my toes. I swear I hear an owl. At 10 in the morning? He must be as confused as I am. The ash grey clouds hang heavy above, and flick drops of water at my head. A blade of grass is weighed down by droplets that seem too heavy for it to bear. I tell it that I understand, and that the sun will come out soon to lighten its load. It whispers the same message back to me. We have an understanding, that blade and I.

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