My eyes are dry. I rub them and they keep on aching.
I look outside the window and see, there's a new born, but I cannot believe it.
No sounds of energy, particles of anything vital glimmering in the air.
Only my coffee machine rattling.
It reminds me of old trains and that one sweet little story my father read to me as a child,
the train that didn't quite believe it could go all the way so kept telling itself
"I think I can I think I can I think I can..."
I feel the same concerns now, that large responsibility, that same self-doubt and will.
I have resistance dragging myself into this big world out there, it's because my roots aren't deep into the soil yet, I haven't anchored in myself -
// 10.11.12
No comments:
Post a Comment