Sometimes, my comfort zone feels like a well worn straight jacket that eases into the crooks and bends of my body like an old friend. It glares across the no mans land of my smile scowling at those who unknowingly trespass with their untamed exuberance and hot tears and shouts of anger, unaware of the echoing antechamber that conceals the space where I try to hide.
There, sits chained a wild haired woman desperate to dance and yell in the rain, her bare feet pounding the earth while the gems adorning her ankles and wrists flash and pulsate with the joy of Gaia’s heavenly Light. She’s glimpsed the power of a Love so vast it flows to the bounds of Space and back again like an eternal melody. And she wants more.
The chance of her freedom clutches my mind in a spasm of fear that my Ego enjoys replaying again and again. There is no comfort here, only vigilance, limits set, the checking of paperwork to ensure that everything is in order, zoned out to the call of the wild that hums my name on the wind.
But she knows it’s coming. She can feel it. She’s not the only one who longs to pound the Earth with her feet. The far off drumming slowly building in sound as the army of Life approaches. Her toes are twitching, fingers flickering, heart mirroring the rhythm of the beat. Though her boundaries are watching, braced for attack, She knows freedom is coming.
