to mend one’s heart with blooms and dust

Perhaps my biggest vice is also my biggest accomplishment in this life. Maybe the thoughts that so often keep me awake at night revolve around the same things I am most proud of about myself: to live big. To fall asleep with so many shiny star dreams just to wake up to a world where I get to watch them shoot fire across the sky, all the way to my eyes, to the very depths of me. To have an attitude of hopeful expectation waters a blossoming garden within me, yet the fact that my own mind has the ability to disrupt even my purest of dreams leaves me profoundly uncomfortable.

Even still my mind is the master manifester of these magnificent, somewhat wild & chaotic dreams that keep me up at night. The same mind that leaves me anxiously frantic to do more and see more is the one that builds entire castles and villages of wonder. The disparity is an addictive contagion. And yet, I am the original architect. I am the gardener and may prune what I wish. My mind is not its own enemy. It provides so much comfort on the day to day.  The sinky sunny couch, the honey ginger lemon tea, the great big twirly hug, & a milkshake with all the extra whipping cream. So while my overgrown garden of a mind carries me to more thorns than blooms at times, the dust still dances in the wind, the sun can warm my cheeks & I am home & one within myself in my sinky sunny couch of starry eyed dreams.