Floating head bobbling on a dash.
Attached, yet light as a feather
as if the breeze might take it away.
Rustling leaves in the wind
echo the feelings in my chest.
Fear, love, pain, peace, sadness
all stirred up within.
Vivid dreams.
Panic, power, anger, restoration.
Each dream seeking resolution
or illuminating an injustice.
All stirred up and shaken inside.
Stay close, stay close,
the time for release is near.
In order to dislodge
I must gently pry,
not too forcefully
or deeper wounds start to seep
and I might drown within.
Slowly, so slowly,
layer by layer,
I must release.
Each layer shed
brings a bit of death.
Just as we must surrender
to the death of sleep each night,
we must surrender to the death of release.
Little by little,
grief after grief,
sorrow after sorrow,
until the prescribed container no longer fits
and all that is left is love.
