[march of the mushrooms]
Overnight…
by early the next day, long before the sun rises, we are ready, so ready, more than ready. Tossed once more from another safe yet suffocating cocoon and into the open, frigid, frightening world. We’ve been here before, standing in there same shoes, old fists, charged and pumped–and oh, so soft–so soft–unable to wreak any havoc or do any damage.
But now, now–[how now, brown cow, we giggle–] now it is time! This is our moment. Finally!
We bring to the surface, pull from the electric charges that illuminate our hearts, once more, all the fears and obstacles that once stood before us–blocking, obstructing, preposterously preventing us from
pursuing–and claiming, yes, claiming, what is so rightfully ours.
This is how the year started for me.
A mere mushroom…
meek…mild…patient…
now…persistent…
pushing his way up through the cracks of the pavement…
trying to find a place…
a voice…
no longer with my soft fists…
I am so ready to inherit the earth.
<“)))><
[an enormous, hearty thanks goes to sylvia plath…the beyond brilliant poet who etched the poem “mushrooms”…which is where this image came from. read her poem…click here…don’t wait…do it right this minute.]
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