In the time before now.
As the moon crept closer with each breath.
I gathered all I had come to believe that I was.
Shards of magic and fragments of wishes.
Stories woven with velvet and magnolia petals.
Words and truths and tulle.
And I laid them all out before me.
I read myself.
As an oracle might.
Seeing into the corners and behind the curtains.
To worlds not yet dreamt.
And discovered an ache rising where there had once been only space.
A yearning for reformation.
Without the bindings of yesterday.
A wish.
To descend.
And leave what I brought upon the surface.
If only for a turn.
So as to see.
Who I might be.
Bare to the dark.
And what I might embrace.
Again.
When I reemerged.
And so I turned away.
Light in my hands.
And stepped deeply.
Where I could be.
Without.
For a spell.
In the nothing.
I reveled.
Until the ache bled through the night.
And I began to want.
Again.
To see who I could be.
As I met myself in the midst of it all.
It doesn’t.
It hasn’t.
Happened all at once.
Almost nothing does.
But now I stand.
Before myself.
Staring at the pieces.
The vows.
The wonders.
I stand.
And consider.
What will meet the fire.
And what will become the way.
And I wonder.
As you stand before yourself.
As these days become more of who they are.
What of your being will meet the fire?
What will become the way?
With wild and wonder~
Jo Anna
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