escape

what am i doing still writing between these lines going page after page as if some direction emerges out of thin air to guide me out of the darkness and uncertainty instantly landing me in a poppy field like the rolling hills around the emerald city where all the different parts of myself converged just in time to learn that the whole project was a bit of a farce because the basket was already full of acorns and daisies and heavy books brimming with so many answers as well as fantasies offering just as many inspirational sparks as one would ever find way over there over the rainbow and so forget about traveling to far away lands by balloon or by train or plane or donkey and instead come right back here between these narrow lines on this thin piece of paper and rather than scribbling until a wonderful answer appears to your delight remove the pen and gift yourself a moment's grace to simply wait and see the open still room for air and light to fill your bubble until at last you burst and fly free