I dream of closing my eyes, head back, feet rising above the treeline,
toes touching stars-swinging in the midnight summer air.
Being thrust into space and gently pulled back down again.
I dream of rising,
of shedding skin and transformation,
of just letting go of the thoughts and actions that don’t truly fulfill me.
I want a house in the country with a little path leading to a deciduous forest scattered with conifers.
I want a lush garden full of pollinators.
I want color where there was dark.
I want dark where there was color.
I want to stir things up and shake them around.
I want to make noise.
I want to be heard.
I want to know my younger self again and tell her she’s going to be just fine.
I want my words to echo in someone’s head.
I want stories told and learned.
I want passion and solitude.
I want to hold a hand that whispers in my language.
I want to sleep soundly and profoundly dream.
I am slow determined growth,
marking my space.
I am just a small part in a grand scheme,
a galaxy within a galaxy.
I am integral, connected,