With closed eyes, it’s dark and there are thousands of letters swirling about, forming words, and then scattering again, forming ideas and then hiding or dissolving into mist. I wish I had a lasso to grab hold of the good ones. That’s what it’s like in here.

With closed eyes, I lift my head toward the hot sun, flashes of bright white, yellow and fuschia dance about leaving silver tails, leaving trails of even more ideas. I wish I had a way to hold on tight – to the right ones. That’s what it’s like in here.

With closed eyes, I hold my breathe and stretch, my right hand to earth my left hand to sky. I imagine the blood simultaneously flowing down and flowing up. So many directions to take. How do you know if it’s the right one? That’s what it’s like in here.

With closed eyes, I inhale and smile. Laughing, on a cellular level.

That’s what it’s like in here…

This entry was posted on Sunday, September 16th, 2007 at 4:47 pm and is filed under My Swirld. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.