I hear you calling,
I hear you!
I promise I’m on my way,
it’s just a matter of logistics.
You didn’t give me a map!
Or maybe you did,
it’s just a 1000 piece puzzle scrawled all over the floor and
before I can even attempt to put the
pieces together I have to
FIND them.
And,
what’s this?
Ah yes,
they’re buried in my fucking hardest,
deepest,
darkest parts that
need to be cracked open and
plunged and
have camp fires made along the way to
light up the path.
The path, the path.
It’s not like breadcrumbs after all,
that looking back I can see the dot-to-dots;
no, it’s candles,
lanterns on the walls,
paper lanterns being released into the night sky,
stars in the sky,
torches being passed from woman to woman,
the smallest sparks,
embers burning out, or
catching,
spreading,
eclipsing the night with a
wall of flame.
The birds forget what time it is,
the roosters crow thinking it is morning,
and,
after all,
there is no dot to dot showing the way home,
the way back to normal,
the way back.
There is no returning,
no normal to go back to,
there is only now.
Who you are now.
This moment,
this manifestation.
Now.
Who are you?
Who the fuck are you?
Who are you going to be?
How are you actually going to show up in the world?
How are you going to let the world fall in love with you if
you keep hiding?
You know they are looking for you just like you are
looking for them.
So stop asking where they are.
Where are you?
How are they supposed to find you when
you’re locked away inside,
set to private,
afraid to share or
promote or
BE.
Who are you,
today,
right now,
really?