New Year Free Write

And so if I’m to free write into my imagination, I’m thinking what it must mean to be a bird, somewhere, with all the creatures of my bones where my body is still a home. I’m thinking about my love of poetry and writing, I’m thinking about when my mind gets starry and turns deep purple amethyst. I’m thinking I can be safe inside myself anywhere I have to exist. I’m thinking I could sit here for a while and write myself back into style. I’m thinking I could continue pursuing my dreams and wishing on dandelion leaves. I don’t believe it needs to be one or the other, a single favorite color. The intentions are burning at my fingertips and there is fire in every wisp. Perhaps I could enchant this body of mine with charms and spells, crystals and seashells. The coral reef is dying, but I can’t forget the color of red when my heart is fed.