Sunday, January 27, 2013

the white horses

I sit here cooped up in my tiny house. I dont want to go out. I dont want to show my face. I want to wear shades, a hat, my blackest cape. I dont need your explanations. I'm just exhausted of it all.

I sit here cooped up. Waiting, searching, longing.

"All the white horse are still in bed." I realize no one is going to rescue me.

I open up my door to dust off my rug. The sun is shining. Chimes are ringing as wind carefully blows. I hear you. This is how my boys communicate. In nature, through the earth, from the heavens.

They cant speak to me through this computer.

"This" will really never be experienced by anyone else but me. No one can give me the answers I know are really inside of myself. I must get up and go outside. If for nothing else than to hear the wind chimes ring.