dancing between opposite, mismatching worlds

ancient crusty memories of all the me’s I used to be, dripping down my mind’s staircase — under a cloak of sneaky nostalgia, airbrushed warmth immune to dissection

who am I now but questions imposed by who I’m not? are we the spaces between? the opposites of others? Yin to yang, silence to music, conversation versus thought?

truly no woman is an island, yet rarely does the cartography measure up to the person when there’s a she that she believes herself to be and a she that she presently is, balancing haphazardly between halves and calling it self-awareness

these tumbling seconds of today: a brilliant morphing landscape — spirits yearning, purpose building, passions bubbling, moment to moment — are you that caged soul lashing out at the world?

while tomorrow is the fantasy, fear, risk, imagination, the golden hope — are you that far-off collection of dreams tucked away in the theater of the mind’s eye?

tiptoeing softly between two selves

the Here and the Imagination

need this be a duality?

fold tomorrow into today

break that cold cycle of stagnation

mix clouds of hope into lakes of monotony

floral fireworks explode in this Earth that birthed you — you are a masterpiece and Nature is the artist.

to bask in the sunny embrace of convenient mediocrity or flail on the bone-rattling roller coaster of romantic transfiguration?

to be you is to choose

who are you?