Home is lurking around the corner, while I stand very still. I anticipate the warmth within its walls, the comfort of hot coffee and books..But the sun calls my eyes, the earth's holding me tightly. It's as if I've trapped myself in a cage of thought.
Trees rustle and the sweet smell of a storm comes my way. Wet grass and dead leaves, something I have always loved. That is my dilemma: receding sheets of clouds revealing an ever so blue sky, water clinging to moss, and that unforgettable feeling of calm.
It curls around my heart and twists into my hair. Making all those chaotic emotions fade until they're just old photos. I'll look at them again some day, but right now they lay in a drawer.
Some time passes before I take any more steps. Slowly pulling my feet from the ground and turning into my driveway to see my house. Tucked away in the clearing of trees, my muddy car parked at a strange angle. I can hear my dog already, scrabbling for purchase on the slick wood floor.
My lungs thank me for the fresh air, sending coolness through my blood. I walk up the lane listening to the birds. They sing so sweetly, soft and gentle. They are my choir working tirelessly to ease what pain I have. All my mornings becoming a symphony to help me rise.
Home rests under my fingertips now, in the squeak of that old door. I see home in the timber keeping up the roof, the ever present dust, even in the music I neglected to shut off. When I left I was anxious and in a rush, to be honest.
I breathe, put my journal on the chair, and close the door. The whispering trees lulling the morning into a day, while frost melts under the careful touch of the spring sun. And for now, a small moment, everything is alright.
YOU ARE READING
Scraps of A Mind
General FictionUnder my feet is the earth, above my small form is the sky. Both seem endless and vast, stretching onwards forever. In between these things are thoughts, rattling around in my brain like a landslide with no direction. Here are some thoughts, the one...
