It’s painful the amount of psychoanalyzing it takes to have an ideal of perfection for everything wished to be created. Sometimes being told that nothing was meant to ever be perfect, and reassured that trying the best you can, really is all that is necessary to know.
I embrace my desire to
feel the rhythm, to feel connected enough to
and weep like a widow
to feel inspired to fathom the power,
to witness the beauty, to bathe in the fountain,
to swing on the spiral, to swing on the spiral
to swing on the spiral of our divinity
and still be a human.