Transformed
I am walking through a park carpeted in fallen leaves. Each leaf has its own unique colors, colors that are more meaningful since my first chemo.
I witness the way they accept annihilation, so gracefully, so compassionately. I see how the cold wind detaches them, how they fall in a rhythmic, almost meditative way. And finally, I witness their burial, how they feed the tree they once were part of.
sunlit mist
the lingering song
of a robin
My breath masks my face as, for a moment, I stop to feel the pulse of these roots and branches: the pulse of this forest. Among the trees, each string of thoughts unravels thoughts that make me vulnerable and fragile. A warm tear runs down my cold face and I move on.
way back home
I carry no more
shadows
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