Head to Front, Mind to Sun

I need to write, I need to find the words, let them blend in to one organic whole, I need to not think about the right position of thoughts. I need to rediscover my child-like instincts, I want them to overtake my brain, puzzle out the images, and get them right the first time they take shape. I need to write more, think less, see and feel, not judge, have my own mind, watch the other way when it sets sail, along with my eyes and ears. I need to break out of looking backwards, head to front, mind to sun. I need to have my feelings hurt as I experience the drift of the ocean take me away from my beloved, I need to have my skin burnt as the fiery sun marks me as one of her own. I am tan. Not white. I live. I am not dead. Time moves side by side with me, not upfront, and I am not amazed by the puffy clouds dashing by, far beyond deck. They nearly burst. I am as fast as they are and I fly with them and the wind, giving bulky, ever-changing shapes to the sails of my boat. The waves crash against the sides, and the wooden planks creak. My bones remain silent. I am sailing away, to distant shores. I don’t know if I will ever come back. Say goodbye, as long as you still can.

 This is what happened when I listened to Helen Stellars IO (This Time Around)