My chest rose in a way that was unfamiliar.
My heart had risen.
Holy, shit, what has it been doing all those times I felt happy?
My spirit had been lifted.
I never let things fully reach my heart, as a glimpse is granted through a tunnel of fog through the veils of time.
The mind and spirit had been running the show. If the mind said it was a reason to be excited, the spirit allowed it's self to be lifted. If the spirit wanted, the mind created a way.
Like two thieves in the night making off with the heart's willingness to speak,
to breath,
to beat.
I have laughed and I have loved with a heart that dare not get very invested, if at all
from within a cloud of wanting to be engaging
until I could feel warm joy in it
like when I was pregnant and nursing
like the sweet secrets I want to keep to myself
until shared happiness with a friend whose heart was not unlike my own
until a new bouquet of thoughts were delivered to my door one day
until I again began to dream in color
and then it rose again.
Right there in my chest.
May it rise each day with me
My mind and spirit supporting it
as one does a most cherished child
beneath the only sun they have ever known
My heart is coming out of survival mode
- StaceyB
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