Our nest is something we build on our own to give us
permission to explore, and then question, and we go back to our little nest,
and add a bit more certainty because the dinner was great, and the party lasted
longer than we thought, and someone smiled at you in a special way, and then it
rained.
Some thing happened last week; that chloroformed
into a mirage, of the past
persons I inhabited, use to manage and direct with more certainty only because
I believed I had a lot of time… endless time.
The inner voice where gaps of expression are liberated. 