I finally figured out my pillow arrangement, and for some reason, I think this means my heart is figuring out the piece of home that means here
settled
Isn’t a word I’d ever really use to describe my free-spirited being in a land that can ever only be a half-home for passers through
yet my eyes are being opened to a swap my heart has wrought
slide settled away
for present
and dip present
in the deep of slow
I'm present to the broken buzz of the black fan from my host family now breezing my beach room
present to yellow toes on sheep rugs, warm light from alone isles in big stores, small gold hoops meaning growing, simple joy
I'm present to what’s around, what’s in
slow to the wonder of existence
to being a being of an embodied spirit
a soul in a body, a temporary home
a body in a place, a temporary home
where joy takes on flesh
and pain becomes locked in the time space continuum
and control is maybe at best, illusory
and I’m freed by wonder of wondering how little I know, but how much air still fills my lungs
free
present slow
I finally figured out my pillow arrangement
and pieces of instability fall into the stable place of temporary hold, hugged by here
maybe that is all I need
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I definitely don't want this to be a monologue. What are your thoughts? Questions? Ideas?