here.

 

i am returning to this place.

where i sing my brightest song.

there is a remembering happening

after a long dark winter that has lasted longer than i imagined,

through seasons that usually are filled with light.

 

my bravest and brightest song gets sung

in the company of little people,

{i must remember the little people}

in wide open spaces or

when my hands are with the soil,

where the trees grow strong and tall,

at the edge of the water and land,

beside the fire pit

 

i hear the singing happen when i am behind the camera,

and sometimes even in front of it,

when i can let my guard down with a trusted friend

and feel heard.

understood. with nothing to compare, nothing to prove.

 

my song is getting louder each time the sun shines

but i notice it can lose its volume so fast

when the day is dark, when this body is hungry

when i forget

what makes me sing.

 

remembering is important.

i must not forget.