i dream of rain and rail against the lack of it. surrendering to its absence, it comes in the night, softly and steadily, to a parched earth and a weary soul.
i'm raw with the unknown, the unknowable; treading old, worn paths that never lead anywhere, every step familiar - and wrong.
i know where the old magic lives, so i go there. with incantations of dirt and birdsong, i'm on my knees to beauty, seeking stillness in the tending.
how many times, i wonder, can you push something away before it stops coming back?
i'm defining my happiness by what makes me unhappy - discovering what i want, by acknowledging what i don't want.
i'm giving up my dreams to know what they truly are.