Process & What Ifs

Today on Succulents Repotting

These resilient, forceful,

sometimes quiet

regenerating beasts.

Wake, hike,

Small breakfast,

Meditate.

Putz,

Wander wondering,

doddle

the day away,

a little at a time,

Not sitting for the

mundane things

Any thing but the thing to do,

Which will free me to soar,

Take a shower,

Breath in the cool warm fog,

Straight to my head

And get to work.

A creator,

An artist,

There for making every one unique,

an original,

One of a kind.

Wake, hike,

small breakfast meditate.

Putz,

Wonder, doodle,

Do the little things.

Take a shower,

Breath in the cool fog,

Straight to my head

And again, avoiding distraction,

It is time,

Once again,

To get to work.

To last toils and confusion, uprootedness,

Being discarded, wet, dry, clipped, placed,

Holding,

Rebuilding,

Growing strong from the center rising up,

Life thrives in whats wrapped around the edges

coming to life before my very eyes.

Cut Paint Place

In new temporary homes

From the years of memories,

Left behind

In cooled down warm wet Earth, fingers,

Pluck from what was once tossed aside,

Too,

A kindred,

Of the nature Cycle

Coming together,

To grow,

And change,

And stand tall straight up,

Finding the light.

Every Breath.

Let it shine.

Ever-present just under the surface.

That flow so freely, when we can no longer not listen.

It comes in whispers,

In the night,

Can you hear it now.

Tick tock,

On lifes live streamed,

stopwatch.

Press the needle,

Light the cord.

Light the sage,

Breath it in,

The whispers of that quiet giant,

Urging pleading pick yourself up

just try now generate,

once more,

To move it all,

To dive on in,

the true profession.

Is taking scored,

The true adventure,

No longer held back by what ifs,

And not quite readies.

The slower one,

Is not your own,

One bumpy wheel,

Tractor pulling in circles others sown.

Digging,

Scrapping,

Going deep,

To the tilling tundra, down below all of times worn out layers.