Sometimes things only feel real when you say it. Until then reality can hide and hang on in the space around you, invisibly. But when you say it, for the first time, with actual words pronounced and body given to them by your breath and voice, and they escape your chest… that’s when the weight of the passing days kick in. Naked.
And then you let it in, with the next breath, and it starts to move within, like a whisper.
Then, if it doesn’t freeze inside, you’re lucky. There’s a chance that it will reborn in a painting… in a song… in a dance… in a poem…
Then, if it doesn’t freeze inside, you’re lucky. There’s a chance that it will reborn in a painting… in a song… in a dance… in a poem…
It will flow, like a river, stronger and stronger until it reaches the ocean. Letting go reorganizes you from inside and outside. There’s no control. It’s an illusion. And when we have to let go, we learn. Grief. Pain. A space that misses its filling.
Only God knows what it takes to be born.
Brief and wonderful!!! <3 <3
<3 thank you