feeling the joy,
alive in this wayward adventure
some dreams are wooed in silence,
the movement, imperceptible
while wild rivers rage within,
carelessly littering the shoreline with the murky detritus of castaway identities, fragmented beliefs, obsolete ways of being,
festering old stories pregnant with pain
all flotsam and jetsam that dash against the heart
dreams levee against the threat of flood
my heart stays constant.
chasing dreams can feel like being caught in an an unexpected current,
moments from drowning
as all the rage and anguish rise to the surface to violently clear all obstacles in her path
and still my heart beats
within this chest cavity
contained by my flesh
surrounded by a body that is all my own
two feet on the ground, making contact with earth
home. right here. ALIVE.
i’m supposed to be HERE doing and feeling THIS
(and so are you.)
some dreams i don’t chase at all
but in the twilight hours while much of the world is sleeping,
weaving away at their own brilliant dreams…
with a child like heart, wakefully i sing to them.
and sometimes when i’m really really lucky
some other tender dreamer
joins me in that late night song
~ artemisia shine
ps. i love you. really.