Tuesday, January 31, 2017

~ cranberry juice ~

Driving to a destination not planned
with the windows down, allowing
the sun to bless me for the day.
A mason jar of fresh cranberry juice,
hint of lime,
seated next to me, refresh and
tingle my tongue, giving me
reassurance that the sun is real.
Listening to music that smells
like fresh laundry pulled in from outside.
The journey is within my blood,
seeking release and to be shared
with those who still see the dark.
Those who seek with hands, touching
life and not giving up until the
glass of cranberry juice quenches their thirst.
This is who I am - 
free, untamed, bohemian, sensualist - 
as reminded by someone who sees me
as I truly am.
Viridian, my freedom colour,
setting me away from the world
and yet thrive within it; the feeling
of knowing that this is NOW,
of here, right and now.
Taoist teachings lend strength
to the winds that speak my name.
edging me to go on and on.
Never turn back.
Never regret. Never surrender.
Follow the flow as directed by
the black wings of the Raven,
the eyes of the goddess who blesses me.
I refuse to close my eyes
and shut out that which is before me - 
of welded steel carried by the 
old Samurai who wants to teach me
how to dance in the air
and bring fear to my enemies.
One drop of the cranberry juice
reminds me to keep alive that
which those have tried to poison.
Fly fast and true, wings given by 
my goddess of War and Death.
Fly onward in the journey.

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