You felt like home; a place i had never known. Delving into your depths, I saw images of regret, embarassment and miscalculated attempts to fit in.
But you were beautiful. Like the winds of time blowing in the tragedy of death and bringing flowers like spring to celebrate the life that has ceased and the life that has pressed on. With the green tips of petals comes a fresh approach to the same old angst-filled choices that aren't really ours to choose.
"What will you have me do?" I said, Leap into the bottomless ocean of life when I cannot see the abyss that lies beneath us? Be drowned by naivety and resurfaced as a swollen, purple version of myself lacking oxygen; but with an abundance of water? Spin blindly into the monsoon of uncertainty?
No- I will do none of these things for I am scared of the outcome and the process for that matter. I cannot leap. So, with eyes on the dirt between my toes I say; "I am no frog.
But you were beautiful. Like the winds of time blowing in the tragedy of death and bringing flowers like spring to celebrate the life that has ceased and the life that has pressed on. With the green tips of petals comes a fresh approach to the same old angst-filled choices that aren't really ours to choose.
"What will you have me do?" I said, Leap into the bottomless ocean of life when I cannot see the abyss that lies beneath us? Be drowned by naivety and resurfaced as a swollen, purple version of myself lacking oxygen; but with an abundance of water? Spin blindly into the monsoon of uncertainty?
No- I will do none of these things for I am scared of the outcome and the process for that matter. I cannot leap. So, with eyes on the dirt between my toes I say; "I am no frog.
Were I a bird I could pump blood into the veins of my wings that would propel me into the clouds that are dreams of our ancestors. What would i see? -Certainly things i have never dreamt of. I would pluck my feathers and let water roll down them to the tips of my nails; Feeding fledgling with the carcasses of past rodents as the nutrients fills their tendons with life; Arranging twigs and foliage to protect the young life that was once my womb from which came an egg. But while birds are vast in their knowledge of the skies, what do they know of the ground and dirt? And since there is no feeling softer than that of sun-glistened dirt on my toes I say, "I am no bird."
Slithering on my belly, feeling every individual walk of life roll beneath my warm body I am a snake. In time, I may shed my skin and become my new, older and slightly larger self. Having digested many tiny rodents I have become familair with their habits, their families and their fledglings. I wait and even calculate the moves of my prey. Move to the right and I will counter your move with a deadly lunge to your weakest penetrable point. In the name of my existence I will strike at you when you are not expecting it. I exist in constant search of warmth and moisture. I Slither on my abdomen and chest propelled by the solid muscle that is my body. I let the vibrations of all things guide me as I absorb their pulsating energies. But while tough skin I have, scales i have not; so with the flesh of malleable tissue I say, "I am no snake."
With rage and instinct to rule my actions; I fear nothing and no one. Come near my young and your next step is unfortunately your last. I stand at great heights allowing you to feel my presence. Territorial and keen, I stalk you as you traipse about thinking you are stalking me. Quiet steps and smooth agility will convince you that feeling is nothing but your shadow. Bears are both illusive as well as massive; yet they move with quiet observance. While remaining unseen is most satisfactory, I believe I have not mastered the art of existing without imposing; and so I say, "I am no bear."
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