Subtle shifts re-shape the internal baskets carrying so much weight within.

Their handles worn from evenings gripping their delicately woven threads so tight.

Their insides wet with wisdom, warm with the nectar one is only rewarded with after that harrowing journey

Through hallowed hallways and well worn reed walls after months of pacing, gripping, filling, emptying…

Lavender and sage, cookies and song, death and want, longing…

So thick one would re-weave one’s own self into a larger more delicate vessel simply to create more space.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s