Life itself
The paintings of a future
Dust them off,
for the shelves.
take them down and read and write
and look forward to the evening
and the darkness of night.
So you see the sun,
and the warmth it provides.
Be a good little daughter to mother earth
in awe to her size
and her never-ending sides.

Love the blue
bluebird blue water blue
blown into the wind
outside of this
to places you’ve never seen
feel the cold crisp
air in the lungs
flights from heaven
this is the way
we were born.

It’s okay
to be born over
and over
until you’ve lived every life you’ve dreamed
in one body.
But stay true to the people around
stick to the light
but never in one way to get there.
You are the trunk
and your roots,
but your branches
are yours
to cut and break and fall in Fall or any day you choose.
Sing a song just to sing it.

stay open
because the day you die
is the day you close
and all those branches
and leaves
from many chapters and days and months and years
will fall and hit earth
and what will they say about the way you’ve left it?

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