First I was a mystical child
Full of curiosity and wonder
To the place I had been
Before I came to this one.
And I would remember things
Not so much in details
But in feelings, emotions
Like a pure joy
Or nostalgic longing for my other place, where everything made more sense to my child mind.
Then I tried to tell my mommy
About the other place
Where everything had a heartbeat
And breathing didn't matter.
You could be a piece of granite
And still feel
Or a caterpillar and still love.
I was taught my ideas were silly.
Just the imagination of a child.
And then, I became obedient and learned the ways of this place;
How to separate ever little thing from each other and name it, put it into a category so it could be different than me.
But somewhere, underneath this new understanding, my wonder was hibernating, still remembering that every little thing has a heart. A heart not like the hearts of humans, but much the same in function of emotion.
I held on to that.
Now, I am old woman. I have time to wonder again. Time to remember that long lost place I came from. I think I will be returning there. As I shake off all this separation here. I long for the belonging. Into that cocoon of hearts. All beings together, but having their own feelings. That place felt warm. It had a great yellow sun burning above and around it. It had vibrant green grasses that swayed in skin- prickling winds. And everything was everything. I can hardly wait to get back there. Shake off the lessons of this place. The pulling apart, the loss, the savagery. I never felt at home here. But I had to come, for reasons I haven't yet learned, and may never know.
I'm dreaming now, that familiar emotion of nostalgia, I can almost feel it there...oh that sun is so beautiful and warm on the skin of my mind.
Once I was a mystical old woman. Full of curiosity and wonder, half connected to the place I was before.