Her potential cheered

Her potential cheered from the trees shivering beyond the pool as she considered her future. She could climb Everest, join Greenpeace. Go to college, learn Spanish, read the classics. Vote. ...she saw the path before her rising and falling, making sharp turns over ragged cliffs. No worn broadloom. No comfortable rut. A dazzling existence beckoning with uncertainty. Proof that there are miracles.
The Wive's Tale
Lori Lansens
Copyright 2009 by LLMT, Inc.

I am newly blessed with the time and patience to sit in stillness (outside of yoga practice) and observe. I can sit in my patio and hear urgency and singularity of purpose tapped out by Woody, the lovelorn woodpecker that has taken up residence on my siding. I hear the buds pushing to break ground and stretch to the sunlight. I hear little boys screaming with delight as they tear through shrubs chasing lightning-fast chipmunks.  I am able to listen not to just what is said out loud, but the volumes spoken with eyes, breath, fingers. I hear the tears, the smiles, the fear and the bullshit.

I hear my potential cheering from the trees.

Close your eyes and listen my friends. What do you hear?

Love, Lelly

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