Ceiling Dance

Ceiling dance

So much easier to just feel light, push all thoughts out or else I will drown in the heaviness that feels like I swallowed a watermelon whole.

So much easier to put things off, wait it out, watch the clock, let the clock devour me and in one second I become a minute, and in a minute I am an hourglass.

So much easier to disappear, skim the bare surfaces and give only the best of what I have to give without dipping into what I know is really in the pot.

So much easier to let it be alright, speak the words I have made into a pattern, and I have sewn myself into a pocket now.

So much easier to sink my feet into the deep grooves of the worn path and not be accountable for my own direction, because everyone knows I have no compass to lead myself, they lend me theirs with it's Northerly direction.

So much easier to walk on the floor than dance on the ceiling, but I can see them twirling and I don't know how they got there, but that is where I need to be too.