(image from pixabay)
My head felt enclosed, tight, small, each chink plugged with spirit gum.
Outside felt just out of reach, like a tenuous grasp, lingering;
each bird that sang, tutted, and tweeted, it was as though they were there
right in my ear, whilst also elusively beyond my reckoning.
Nostalgia hit like the downfall of rain that bashed against the flagstones in the courtyard.
And still my breath took me with it, took me through the melancholy, through
The other side was like a wave of happiness, sunlight glinting through the apple tree leaves.
Green has such a special note to it.
Meditation had alluded me the past few months, like a longing that I wanted, but not enough. The desire was there, but the motivation was lacking.
8 Days I am back in the game, and I can feel myself sink back into the familiarity of the endlessness of my "self."