That January haze of those postpartum holiday daze seems to have lifted, dissipated, It is then that I realize I am still here all is well and a little more clear. I was lost, distracted not proud of how I acted, like a childish imp, a pompous tool an ungrateful daughter, the silly fool. Will simple sorry's be enough to regain lost trust? My tarnished self is still in need of polish creative momentum, grant me some solace. There is still so much to learn and respect to be re-earned. A whole wide world to explore, I'm still curious enough to open closed doors, even if it's a big mistake. For a life not lived is a life I cannot take. So bring it, in all your glory Let me participate in my story and focus on the wonder and the beauty yet to be discovered.
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I woke up this morning. there was something in the air; it smelled like hope. I closed my eyes and inhaled the scent of coffee beans roasting down the street. above the observatory a random cloud spiraled up like one of those ribbons of steam one sees when you tilt the kettle to fill your cup.
Now can I turn this distracted mind around. Will it let me dream and rediscover and recover my energy, my creativity, all the things that made me happy.
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