question rush in like dusty brambles
stuck on truths, tastes, treasures
that breathed life in a storybook i owned long ago
why am i here
do i have purpose
or am i just like 'everyone' else
watching the life slip by
in another dust storm
to be eventually captured by the rain
rain. i have forgotten how it feels
how it sounds
this is the hardest time of year for me here.
it is soo dry, so brown, so.. bleh
it makes me feel bleh too
like i am just walking in the same footsteps
over and over
and the only difference i see
is the traffic on the carpet of my life
such patterns.
such lies.
such blandness
i need to travel.
i need to see someplace else
i need a new career.
my love has been supportive. he brought me 2 tulips in soil to plant in my garden. my parents gave me a rose bush to tend to too. the green of the leaves seems to make me giddy in a way i cant explain
my decimated herb garden is still holding on for me.. as if to say.. dont forget we are here. parsely is a crazy thing. it will grow and grow and green and green even without water. so resilient.
am i to follow the path of parsely?
i was once resilient.
perhaps i still am.. just dormant for the winter.
my mind never stops.
maybe thats a good thing.
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