Please do not attempt to hand them to me
Let me gather them when I am ready
Don't give up on me just yet
I will try to sort the pieces in time
Do not sweep them up, hide them, or dispose of them
The mess is mine, I own the pieces before me
I have the strength to build from these very pieces
If time runs out, if the clock even stops, I will do this
Make better pieces from the pieces in front of me on the ground
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It spread apart the confusion in the dream
It crawled between the barriers in the daylight
Here it has cleared the way.
It confirmed the intuition in the waves of thought
It embraced the powers in the confident moments
It allowed the peaceful presence of internal heaven
Here it has cleared the way
My senses rose to new heights
My understanding formed trueness
My breath swept away clouds
My touch embraced the newness
My spirit strengthened into vastness
Tiptoes among the young and old.
She sees the vastness of pain and reason.
Chasing butterflies for answers among the endless winds.
She stops at the edge, terrified to take the leap.
Working hard to catch up to her passions.
In dreams, she catches butterflies until her reality allows her to take flight.
The atmosphere vibrated with silent welcomes
Welcome back; it has been a while.
Pieces were left here in the unspoken agreement of the past.
The pull of knowing without knowing it.
The present, the here and the now
Colliding with the past and pieces left behind.
The atmosphere became visible
The pieces are now put back together
The door is open, but I cannot see it.
This heaviness within my mind spins me.
Please
My sight is blurred. going inward.
The ground feels uneven and untrustworthy
This thickness within my thoughts stalls me.
Please
My hearing is clouded, filtered from the truth.
The path is long and winding around doubt.
The silence cries in uncomprehension.
Please
Where are my settings to fix? How do I understand?
Am I just to stand in faith with no questions answered?
It feels heavy today. the air surrounds with swirling intrigue.
Why now do I rest easy in resolving myself?; feeling a sense of me.
Why now, Moon? Why am I to follow in trusting this completely?
How does it come to be that I have no doubt in something so uncertain?
Blindly, I seek answers but utterly believe in the crazy unbelievable.
What now. Moon?
The pieces on the ground lay in front of me Please do not attempt to hand them to me Let me gather them when I am ready Don't give up on...
