I see them like ink winding down my skin
Stories I have told or yet to tell
Or yet to live
And how I will make them part of my tapestry
Threads woven so tightly
Until they transform into roots, uncuttable
I play it out like a helicopter leaf
Fluttering down into my hand
What are the moments I will remember
When it’s important
I can still see flowers growing
On the side of the road
While I stare out listlessly from the back of the minivan
How strange that I don’t know where we were going
Or how old I am
But I know how I felt
Looking at those wildflowers
Telling myself
Remember this
I rehearse tragedies with the best of us
Winding up every dark emotion
Until they are coiled tight, at the ready
Like the whack of a rubber sword
Could ever compare to being run through
Lessons I learn, over and over
Stories I have told or yet to tell
Or yet to live
Bring your attention back to the center
Where do the roots lead
When they lead to home?
If I pretend I am a palm reader
And I trace my lifeline down my hand
I can make up stories with the best of us
But if I breathe into my body, and out again
I can feel the place where my seconds
Are rooted in my life and all its stories
They grow stronger now, uncuttable
With Love,
Natalie