Some things disappear in time and for that I am ever
grateful. As a hedonist with deeply
passionate sensual qualities, emotions build with utmost regularity and
intensity—releasing with joy and renewed wonderment at each experience. Catching the wind in my sail sends me
smoothly over washboard roads, tipping treetops, breathing waterfall mists and
smelling plumeria grove scents.
It’s the heart that takes this journey—the yogic posture,
opening widely to embrace life with love
at the bow, fear at the stern, and choice and freedom at the helm.
As all things real, as much as life is a dream, physical
hindrances pose encumbrances—the glass slipper falls off, perhaps breaks, the
horse-drawn carriage turns orange pumkinish at the stroke of time and our
dreams intersect with right-direction required for a full and balanced life to
manifest.
The dawn comes and we face the new light. Oft times, grateful for an unrequited lost
love, memories becoming more faint with each setting sun.
Kat
18 July 2016
prose poem
prose poem
No comments:
Post a Comment