~[Dreaming & Wanting & Wishing & Yearning & Longing & Imagining & Hoping]

I dream of a little hobbit life sprinkled with big grand adventures– I dream of the finest foods- artisan crackers, vintage aged cheddar and crimson Pepperjack. I dream of my belly being sore from uncontrollable joy. I dream of reading my silly little books, spines cracked & margins scribbled, in my own silly little library. I dream of drinking coffee every-morning with the love of my life. I dream of leaving letters in strangers mailboxes, unsigned. I dream of slowing down and not allowing a shred of guilt to nip me. But those grand adventures watch me with curiosity. They demand…

exploring and diving and breath-TAKING as well as breathtaking. Pause on the breath-taking. That’s what I want. The hitch in breath. The little flips in my chest. That fluttering, dancing shiver of pure undulated excitement. I want a warm little smile plastered on my face because I know the secret origins of a stupid grin. I want scars to tattoo my body; stories of close-calls. I want stacks of photographs to be my poetry, when I eventually run out of words. When my weathered and withered hands can no longer pick up a pen. I will remember. And I…

hope that it will be enough. I hope that it will be enough for me to say that I did live a life. I hope that my soul will no longer flinch at the start of something new. I can do nothing but dream of this glued-together ceramic world. I fear the cost of yearning for something so grand. The pieces of me it must take in exchange. I am a coward. I do not need to have a story of my own- but I fear not having one all the same. So I am learning how to explore, and dive and hold my breath. And gods do I hope that I feel the fall. I will master straddling the realm between the living and living. It is all I can…

wish for.