Aqueous

I see myself as a body of water.

Some days, it feels like  

The steady flow of possibility 

is coursing through my frame.

Like I am a conduit for creation.

Easy, steady, I make what I see. 

Some days, the water is too calm

It stagnates

Needs to be shaken up. 

If I walk in circles in my mind, 

Perhaps I can make a whirlpool 

to unstick the notion that I am worthy. 

Some days, it is like a tempest inside

And I can do is stay along for the ride

Heart racing, heavy breath 

Emotions tumultuous, they toss and turn

So quickly, I can barely make sense of them.

There is a sudden calm.

The storm has passed.

The words to articulate 

what has just transpired 

come slowly during recovery 

when they are ready.

Like bubbles reaching for the surface

A reminder that there is still life below

I collect them, put them in a neat package

And share, baring my soul for all to see

I catch my breath and dive back in. 

Once again, I am back to being 

at the mercy of the muse

Creating with my hands 

something that is both mine

And not of this world. 

I am on her time, I must be ready.

There are worse ways to be.