Beauty For Ashes

There are many pieces to pick up. 

There are many wounds that are dangerously close to reopening with the slightest discomfort.

There are many burdens that come along with me wherever I go.

Regardless, I have hope that I will overcome the invisible chains that hold me down and keep me captive, mostly to my own prison of fear.

I do have problems. 

Sometimes when I am  in the midst of them, I say to myself "I am a mess."

I pretend strength that I have never had for long.

I feel like laying down, letting the wind carry me to a place right on the edge of sleep.  Where my body is relaxed and warm, but mind open and alert, and my eyes, closed.  In this state, my dreams are achievable, and I am powerful and loved.  I remember all the things that reveal to me that I have what I want.  I am loved.  I AM love. That is where I long to be instead of facing myself in the mirrors around me.  The mirrors of my past, the reflection of my present.  The haze of a future I cant quite make out.  The beauty around me is shadowed in my own clouds of doubt.  I wish those clouds away, but they remain. 

Restless with immobility, I do get up.  Sometimes with only the hope of hope as a reason.  Sometimes, the certainty of it.

I get up.  I do what I said I would do the best that I can.  I soak up the love that is offered to me as it it was my food.  I breathe it in.  I stare it in its beautiful face, burning into my memory the sincere deep blue eyes that plead with me to accept it.  It is real.  I am ok. As if this feeling was molecule that gives my cells the ability to do what they need, I walk forward.  I dream in my awake state, and I gently persuade the child in my heart that taking my hand, and letting me lead her to the love I have found down the road, and through the mountains will not ever hurt her.