And mindful reflection.
Evanston Canal, by the hospital
And quiet.
And breath.
And tears.
And laughter.
And color.
J and C in Chinatown
And sound.
And eyes that see.
And ears that hear.
And the willingness to work through what I cannot see or hear,
yet,
or maybe ever.
Safe doesn’t always mean pretty
Strength from all over the place. Some boundaries too.
No such thing as trapped. Not really.
Grateful for all that has led me here, right now.
In the journey
Yeah, I love clouds though I don’t understand them.
Shredded
Grateful for you and others on my path who may have caused wounds,
And scabs.
And scars.
And joy.
My busy head. I have learned to like my head and its committee.
And grateful for my voice and for yours.
One scar, of many.
This is my heart.
And this is my art.
When I couldn’t sleep last night, this happened.
And we all have stuff with which to make art.
So grateful.
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Author: PKW
Writer, Speaker, Facilitator, Trainer, Fundraiser, Strategist, Listener, and Lover of Humans. My love for humans and relationship building are a part of every single thing I do, except for maybe using the bathroom.
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