Write

A life lived colouring by numbers, safely staying within the lines, constrained by expectation. Colour disguising and obscuring, limiting and confusing.

Turn the page, a new chapter to begin, where twists of fate might bind, even as they free our minds.

As the sea change that we talk of, in fear of what may come, takes form, in whispers that echo in ears and minds, we wait, and the sea is patient.

Gossip murmuring, swirling, following. Behind hands, or blatant in its visibility. Have you heard? Did it really? Must be true, not surprised, not surprised, not surprised.

In the looking glass I see a version of this life that blurs the more I look. Like a hall of mirrors, I am reflected back in endless ways seen differently by strangers by you by me.

The wonder of each new day’s dawn when the night has been too long The purity of raindrops left when the storm has passed along The ideal of living slowly when the world won’t stop for you The honesty of

Temptation to do the things we shouldn’t do leads us to places we shouldn’t go: out of bounds, we view events not meant for us, that pale and fade, so far are they beyond our understanding. And yet, still we

let wonders entwine and weave dreams that entice you to embrace chance let words encircle and snare ideas that excite as you embrace life let arms enfold and bring warmth that elicits a need to embrace love let passion envelope