change of heart

she had broken down several times that week, but todays breakdown was different. it was like the storm that marks the end of a season. the winds that purge the dead leaves from the trees before winter, or the torrential rains that herald the coming of spring. todays breakdown was a fight, a battle, and the end of a war. it was time for change and she felt in her soul the desire for a new direction. it was time she shed last year's skin, and she did it in one day, scrubbing it off in the shower, blow-drying it from her hair, and starting with a new face. feeling new, she stepped from her front door, strode down the hall, and walked down the hollow-sounding stairs. she stopped at the mailbox near the base of them, reached in tentatively and pulled out a single envelope addressed with her fathers sweeping handwriting. an instant smile found residence on her mouth and stayed as she opened the door from the cool hall and stepped into the temperate sunshine. she held onto the letter, too fearful to open it, afraid of the tears that were inevitable. in agonizingly slow numbered steps she opened it, #1: read the address, assess the envelope, #2 rip open the top of the letter, #3 read the first line, #4 place the letter back into the envelope unread. #5 pull out the letter again, look at it, put it down, pick it up, read it all and cry.
it said,
"dear skye,
hey there kiddo! how is work? how is life? i am so proud of you and all you accomplish. but just know that my love is unconditional! no matter what you do, you will always be loved very much by me. i was very proud, but not surprised by you being on the seattle P.I. i would like a copy of that if you could get one. things here at the ranch have been good. breakfast is served between 7:00 and 8:00, lunch 12:00 and 1:00, dinner from 5:00 to 6:00. we also get a snack at 10:00 we have a pool and a weight room to work out. I work 40 hours and i take 6 to 7 classes a week so i am quite busy. I have to go now since i have to go to work. I will write again as soon as i can. please write soon and send pictures if you can.
love, dad"
the letter read like from a kid at summer camp, but in even in its simplicity it thrilled her to read it. it blessed her to know that her father was thinking of her even in drug rehab. it was that day, like the other changes that took place, that her opinion of her father changed, and she remembered the kind of father he was. she remembered who he had been, not what he had let himself become. she remembered, that even though he had made bad choices, and been a bad person sometimes, that he had always treated her well, with love and respect, with care and teacher-like patience. she also came to the realization that if he was able to exhibit those qualities to her, then they truthfully existed within him, and that change was not impossible for him.

what im falling into

the sky is a cup of cream,
a flat canvas for me to paint my self confidence on
ive lost myself in a state of elation, a frivolous sweet feeling, peanut butter tongue, cranberry lips. feeling especially beautiful, new haircut vanity. tequila dizzy, and sleepy rose-faced delight. im losing myself in senses, smell, taste, touch, liquid-soft prophet's eyes. hazy gentle rain. sleeping beneath soft sheets of music. i hear the played chords of sea breath and the quivering of harp fingers. i long for the feel of moss beneath me, the rising of tides and sharp grass to lie lazy among. things do not revolve around my hands. words, breath, birds, all find their own course of life, and so will i.

clipped wings grow

i sat listlessly in my car, considering the past week and the manic ups and downs ive dealt with. i turned down the radio and let myself listen to my own breath, the sound of passing cars, the rain dropping methodically from open clouds and the hum of the engine. as the rain fell and slowly slipped down into the earth, a thought trickled into my mind and i realized, life is delicate. its easy to let it slip by unchanged. i am fearful of breaking it, and so i avoid touching, embracing, or changing it. it is scarey to think of changing things, and it is easy for me to be afraid. i sometimes tend to look at life like i do snowflakes, with awe and the knowledge that if i take it into my hands, even gently, iam likely to cause a meltdown. sometimes the beauty of life is in the meltdown though, in the uncertainty of watching something that is solid, become liquid and changable. this time of my life is exciting. the newness of feeling, original thoughts and freedom of spirit is all so intimidating, but exciting and freeing.