I want freedom. Freedom from a tongue bound by convention. Freedom of thought that need not be harnessed back like horses wild. Let them run, I say. I want freedom of time that has no tick. No deadline. It belongs only to me. I am the boss who’s burning that midnight oil for inventions that build a life. My life. I want freedom of style as I slip on skinny jeans, GoGo boots and too much eyeliner. I want freedom of money, mullah, bank, green dogs braying with a jingling, jangling pick me up off my sad ass, hard times, hard luck self. I want freedom of space. Open plaines and wind swept deserts. Where I can walk a mile or ten in my crusty, beat up hikers and no one holds my line to any destination I desire. I want freedom of heart. Open it up wide as a storm gray clam glistening with sea water and pearls, while it still holds the grit I earned honestly. I want the freedom to love you. Love you as I take you into my skin, bury you deep in my belly and warm you up like mama’s stew. I want the freedom to open myself to possibilities and disaster. Good times and crazy adventure. I want freedom that only a bird knows. Alone, in a winter wood, with nothing but silence and every branch I own.
Work in progress from The Writing Church Writer’s group hosted by Marj Hahne, Boulder, CO. Inspired by the poem “What Do Women Want” by Kim Addonizio
4 thoughts on “Let Them Run”
awsomeness!! Love the energy in this. Hits at the core of my chest::))
Thank you. I’ve joined two writer’s groups hosted by the same woman. She challenges us with these awesome assignments with other writer’s work for inspiration. Boulder is almost an hour drive from my place, but it’s well worth the drive. I get three good working pieces out of each session. This piece was from last Sunday. The poem we used is listed at the bottom of my piece and if interested I can send you. It’s even better.
Yes… that would be great! Happy Thanksgiving and enjoy piecing together your new home and new chapter in your life…
PS… I used to love hanging out in Boulder from time to time when I was living in Denver. An inspired, multilayered place to be:)
Happy Thanksgiving, my friend and I’ll send the poem in an email.