I am out in the field.
With or without a battle, plotting a purpose or two, there is an ability to see
the reality of who I am.
My weaknesses. My determination despite those.
My shortcuts. My focus
and where I am the strongest.
My rare wins of balance.
My falls and the courage to restart,
or to let go of that purpose.
The blank visions and the purple swirls; the moist dirt kissing my feet; the tears that would dangle from the corner of my closed eyes. I can see the beauty
of a warrior and her longing for repose,
for her to melt into a space of comfort.
The breaths, the strides, the fixes
that run one after the other
and the awareness
that all it takes is slowing them down
to keep going. All it takes
is an inhale to lengthen
and an exhale to deepen-
an accordance with gravity,
so we can meet grace.
Linger a bit longer,
I was advised, when I was out in the field.