Air

When the dark
waters of complexity
churn and pull
you under in
a rip of thoughts
dragging you out
to sea and spinning
you in a washing
machine cycle
of dreads
yesterday’s wrongs
on repeat cycle

It’s time for air

The invisible,
pulled into the
burning lungs,
the relief of cool
respite

Air

The knowing
that there is
a reason
we associate
wind in our hair
with freedom,
knowing that
there is an unseen
force that moves
the mighty tree,
knowing we can pull
life into our drowning
lungs
and our legs
will move again
In any moment we
can change direction

© Tanya Southey
#52words52weeks