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Kiwi Crocus
21 July 2008 @ 12:13 am
I haven't updated my written journal in too long. Today is tomorrow. Sigh.

I hung out with Snoopy today. Every moment feels like a goodbye.

The evening felt like hello, and I had to tell it goodbye, because I had work. My heart cried. I followed the moon to the soccer field and greeted the oak. It replied with the wind, and I thought I felt it smiling an aged salutatory smile.

I spoke to the moon and it winked behind the clouds, gave me some time with my Oak. I spoke to Oak with whispers and tears. I weaved my fingers in the grass and scratched lightly at the soil. I cooed at the insects in the field and saluted my soccer self.

The Oak was a wonderful listener. I told her I missed her, that I still felt the love for my younger self continuously running through the field with her strong solid heart and her love for life. That she was self-conscious and so self-aware, and even when she was frightened I felt she was more me than I can currently be.

The Oak whispered back to me with the winds in her leaves. I asked her if she would send to message on the wind to England, to let the tree beings there know that I am coming. Would they watch for me, watch over me, please?

I asked her if she knew where I would land at the end of my wind travels, where I would grow my final roots. She was amused. I looked around the grounds and thought of all the places my primordial roots had grown, where I had known my first nutrients and care. I sent out tendrils of goodbye and told it all I would continue my final partings. I think Oak was proud of me.

I thanked the Earth and soaked her with my mixing pot tears.

The moon peaked out through her cloudy haven. I bowed to her, and thanked my Mother Moon. I thanked her for the time she had given me with Oak. I requested, please keep guiding me? I promise my heart will listen even when my mind is fuddled by thoughts and baggage. My heart is pure love, endless love, ceaseless possibilities. Moon prodded me on.

I said a goodbye to Oak and wondered if I am headed for my Rightest of Rights, all these Possibilities that work for me. Am I headed toward the purest Right? Oak was silent and then urged me on with a creak in the wind.

I started my car and melted into Girlyman. They lead me through the streets of my home town, through the silently running lights of my first home and the winding turns of my first street. They lead me into the driveway of my first 18 years and back into the branches of my first trees. They welcomed me with the wind they caught from my other trunked friends. A night bird called me up to my room.



Well, I'm not sure what that was, but it came out of me so it must have something to do with how I'm feeling. I posted a Blowing Off Steam post on sheroes.

I like personifying. It makes me smile.

Work tomorrow. I will survive, because I am a resilient weed and work is too strong to cage me with humanity's restraints. I will be free. I will be me.
 
 
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