one thread

One thread sits lifeless, cold, dead,

a memory of a place that used to be met with pictures, songs, and laughter.

Another is warm,

filled with communication, sweet voices, love, and heart emojis.

It makes me think of all the harshness I’ve had, all the hurdles I’ve hit my knee on,

all the times I’ve broken a bone and people have told me to just keep going,

when all I wanted to do was stop.

To take care of the hardened corn on the bottom of my foot that pierces me like a nail.

To voice the love and compassion I see between people.

To sit and gaze at the clouds and the stars.

My goals are different than yours. My goals are different from before.

I used to believe I had to work hard for things I wanted, but ever since that abrupt ending,

laying around in the sun, enveloping my body in light, petting fur, talking to angels, gently

touching leaves of plants, gazing into her soft brown eyes…

My beliefs are now about warmth, and kindness, and flow.

They are about ease, and grounding, and light.

They are about putting potatoes in the pot to soften,

They are about pouring water in the soil for it to soften,

They are about placing my hardened calluses in hot water for them to soften.

They are about wrapping my heart in silk and solitude, self-love and solace

for me to soften.

So I can caress my dreams and hold them in my hand

and then release them to take flight, to soar above the sun, and come back to me,

because they find me as a safe place to land.