You.

I have fallen for some sort of pleasure; the bravado of you.

I am a simple girl deep down. The same little girl who wanted to make beautiful things, playing in the long swaying meadows of wild flowers, resting in the palm of our earthly mother. Sometimes I visit this meadow, in my mind.

One can come accustomed to moments robbed from the incubation of fear. Savasana for example, how many times I have chosen the grip instead of surrender. I am still under the impression there is no better sensation then the innocent moment of completely letting go. The liberating fall into our very own sea of Him.

I have come to the meadow many times to watch her play; the little girl. Every so often things dance to my lips like a flame. Things I ponder to tell her. Rarely do I let it pass without licking out the fire before the atmosphere does its work of combustion. She will live a beautiful life. Who am I to interrupt her play in the drunken stupor of my emotions?

Today…I broke my rule.

"The birds sound exceptionally happy" I mumbled, she agreed by closing her eyes for a deeper listen that began to tug on the corners of her mouth. 

"It's always worth the wait little miss. "