busybusybusy-winters coming-holloween is brewing
I feel like I buzz, I imagine myself buzzing as I walk and find the inviting roadways on each surviving flower like a siren to the rocks. Distracted I hurry home to my nest, with the collections from the day and a lifetime of tasks ahead of me in one night.
New roommates need to be made room for, even though I have used that room for myself. It was my space and now I have less, but... I have more money for things, but what I really need is space to breath and sing and dance and move my arms around me without having to say oh, Im sorry, I beg your pardon, oh, was that yours? here let me pick that up for you. I need space for my dreams to grow and space for my fingers to sow the fruits that they have yearned to make for so long and now I feel like I am ready, my seeds have been stored in my cheeks for when I was ready to make another spring and now I place them about myself, but I need space for them to grow.
And all past futile half-springs will fade, in the splendor of the new and I will walk amongst my flowers and drink in their wisdom of everything must be in its own season and every feild must lay fallow till it is ready for more.
I love the fall. The smells and colors make my heart move and my feet yearn for the apples and pumpkins and cider and donuts fresh out of the pan, burning leaves mixing with the smells of autumn and soon, one becomes the other.
I am so excited for holloween, if I didnt love the moment of my tentative birth so much, than it would be my favorite month. Costumes and haunted revelry, jack o lanterns gapping gleefully at the witchy moon. Children scamper after candy and wind nipped noses rosy with excitement and warmed by cocoa or cider. Remember when you would go out and make the rounds through your neighborhood? I never felt more connected to my community, or to my familt then. My gainings were to me a valuable hoard, a nest of dragons gold, kept for as long as possible, even after everything good was sone. Tromping back with my little sister, spreading our winnings out to marvel and closley check for razor blades and poison. It made it all the more exciting and fun, like my understanding of the magnitude of what we had done was not just born out of my childish imagination. Of course, mom always got a cut and it was bitterly haggled and bartered for with donations from my sisters stash too. Pictures of our mustually hard won and worked for costumes, each year marking our own identities and personal creative self. My sister a kitten, myself a pirate complete with wiskers and a tail, and stripety tights and a patch that was soon disgarded. The three year difference between us was marked by our choice in costumes, but sometimes she suprised me and I was outdone. Wich gave her a dose of early won respect that joined later with strength and hardship. But now, and every holoween, we are still just children and sisters and we have a lot of fun, even if she runns screaming every time she enters a haunted house, having had been carried out as a child and led out now, she still goes back she still wants more of it, like me.
Though this year we will hold hands and we will be scared together, my mother in tow. I remember being so scared for her life one year, when I would look back on her I would see those nasty creatures just behind her reaching out to poke her hood, and I would scream and pull her forward ahead of me, scaring her half to death. Smiles in the memory and lots of fun, we shall go againthis year, find something new. As all of the evil creatures of the night take Holloween off, we shall take it on to ourselves and scare each other. BOOOO!
New roommates need to be made room for, even though I have used that room for myself. It was my space and now I have less, but... I have more money for things, but what I really need is space to breath and sing and dance and move my arms around me without having to say oh, Im sorry, I beg your pardon, oh, was that yours? here let me pick that up for you. I need space for my dreams to grow and space for my fingers to sow the fruits that they have yearned to make for so long and now I feel like I am ready, my seeds have been stored in my cheeks for when I was ready to make another spring and now I place them about myself, but I need space for them to grow.
And all past futile half-springs will fade, in the splendor of the new and I will walk amongst my flowers and drink in their wisdom of everything must be in its own season and every feild must lay fallow till it is ready for more.
I love the fall. The smells and colors make my heart move and my feet yearn for the apples and pumpkins and cider and donuts fresh out of the pan, burning leaves mixing with the smells of autumn and soon, one becomes the other.
I am so excited for holloween, if I didnt love the moment of my tentative birth so much, than it would be my favorite month. Costumes and haunted revelry, jack o lanterns gapping gleefully at the witchy moon. Children scamper after candy and wind nipped noses rosy with excitement and warmed by cocoa or cider. Remember when you would go out and make the rounds through your neighborhood? I never felt more connected to my community, or to my familt then. My gainings were to me a valuable hoard, a nest of dragons gold, kept for as long as possible, even after everything good was sone. Tromping back with my little sister, spreading our winnings out to marvel and closley check for razor blades and poison. It made it all the more exciting and fun, like my understanding of the magnitude of what we had done was not just born out of my childish imagination. Of course, mom always got a cut and it was bitterly haggled and bartered for with donations from my sisters stash too. Pictures of our mustually hard won and worked for costumes, each year marking our own identities and personal creative self. My sister a kitten, myself a pirate complete with wiskers and a tail, and stripety tights and a patch that was soon disgarded. The three year difference between us was marked by our choice in costumes, but sometimes she suprised me and I was outdone. Wich gave her a dose of early won respect that joined later with strength and hardship. But now, and every holoween, we are still just children and sisters and we have a lot of fun, even if she runns screaming every time she enters a haunted house, having had been carried out as a child and led out now, she still goes back she still wants more of it, like me.
Though this year we will hold hands and we will be scared together, my mother in tow. I remember being so scared for her life one year, when I would look back on her I would see those nasty creatures just behind her reaching out to poke her hood, and I would scream and pull her forward ahead of me, scaring her half to death. Smiles in the memory and lots of fun, we shall go againthis year, find something new. As all of the evil creatures of the night take Holloween off, we shall take it on to ourselves and scare each other. BOOOO!