For days I’ve caked my face with no make-up,
nor dried my hair with gusty blow.
I’ve not set forth in world’s jungle with bayonet lipstick,
I’ve let lianas grow.
I’ve invited light in, with a naked face.
Finished sentences, allowed time to think.
I’ve let children wander, rise above balloons of their fears,
and drift back with or without answers.
No urgency there.
I bask in the pleasure
of dayfall, dawn briskness.
Cooler temperatures make mountains clear
so inspiring
we always believe we can start afresh.
findingtimetowrite 