Separate pieces
And bits that used to make sense.
You were given the plans
And built step by step
No room for elaboration,
No intuition,
Little room for unique expression.
But slowly over time,
Entropy
It is a crime to glue the pieces.
You let them succumb to time,
To little hands,
To play,
To dreaming.
You are left with a box full of confusion.
One day you surrender.
The box is emptied
And the pieces scattered.
Will they ever be recovered?
Some
And some in the right time.
Others are hidden
And emerge after many years like treasures.
There are always more,
More mysteries,
More magic,
More thank you notes from the universe.
"You let go. You threw the seeds to the wind not knowing what would grow or when. You took them blindly by the handful and cast them about your garden and paradise. The miracle was not knowing they would always return to you in the quiet times, like little friends, kisses from the universe. You are loved. You are appreciated. Your toil does not go unrewarded. You are needed."
- by Julie O./ Ember Elektra
photo by Julie O./chthonickore
