I was up bright and early to welcome the unexpected wishful continuation of the manifestations I am positively claiming for myself in your coming days.
...but a painful cyst sitting on my scalp less than an inch from a scar acquired through a minor surgery done in 2014 to remove a chronic growth had me strolling the hospital corridors in search of answers yesterday and saw me waste away a morning dealing with some pain. Gave me quite a scare but also reminded me of my fragility as a mortal.
Happy mid-morning from the East of the Black continent 🌻
To the coming days;
I must confess that I feel like the more I walk on burning coal bare feet and weather whatever life throws at me, the more I desire to fight back for what I feel like I deserve.
And so. Here I am to claim better days. To manifest good tides and fruitful seasons. To cast a wish to the listening universe and hope fate favours my unlucky being. I am aware challenging entities will bring balance forth but I am dying on this optimistic hill.
I want to chase what I must then layout an altar to sacrifice the rest of my time to my growth. I intend to further this healing journey and so bleed I must. Let me sleep between the pages of any good read and get lost in short stories and poetry. Help me replenish my seasonal inkpot and revive my dying poet.
...may your unfolding hours catch me playing hide and seek with the sun rays while enjoying the drifting clouds from under a tree. May they grant me the divine power to let light in during the day and hug the dark so lovingly during the night like the magnificent treetops.
Is there a way to unlock fluidity within me? Do your many seconds hold the key to liquidating my giant obstructive ego? I wish to adapt the law of letting things flow in and out as it is intended. I crave to learn what I haven't about who I am and the world around me and it seems like it's a lot.
Can you spare some time for my me-time?
...oh how I yearn for the stars to see me smile more than yesterday. The moon must shine on my tearless face and the night shall hug my light oozing heart. Days will race past my grin and months shall breed change.
As you shed more skin I ask for nothing but good health. The ability to do what this mind keeps churning while my sinful man prays that my deeds will one day redeem my burdened soul. I intercede for my patience with growing plants and yours for my unhurriedness to learn.
How I wish I could afford to be patient with myself.
...the sun will feast on my back and sweat shall drip from my brow but my body and soul will finally be nourished with food grown through the labour of love. Small streams feeding the waiting land shall often cleanse my soiled limbs before finding a way to live in them.
Is there a need to ask for more? Is there a way to know what and when? Life is here today and lives it I shall. Why am I so worried about my tomorrow then? And why does the past keep rewinding itself for my overthinking brain to obsess over it?
Do you hold the answers to these questions?
wambuku w.
