Sometimes life feels like a series of beginnings.
Like a close of a book after reading the foreword.
I've seen seeds sprout and watered them tenderly only to leave them to the care of another hand.
I've shot at goal several times, only to find there were no goal posts to begin with.
And so I walk back to the middle ground to try again.
Here you will find me, where I have been many times over; it's familiar ground in this wide open space.
No ties, no attachments, no place or time I am bound.
Changing soils, muddy ground, floating with the wind.
There's no place to settle my focus but before me there is, once again, wide...wide open skies.

__Photo by Grace Kirkby__

Hannah DarkinsComment