Some days ~ creativity just takes me by my hair ~ and astonishes me.
When I lean in and listen, I find her whispering in a woman’s voice, telling me things I’d forgotten. How sweetly she has secretly saved my longings to give back to me when I was ready. And when I’m really willing to play with her ~ she takes me to her underground larder, where all my childhood dreams are neatly kept in rows of old jam bottles. She asks me to open and sniff them, and when I do, the fragrance of my innocence takes over.
There I am, with my grey hair, dreaming that little girl’s dream anew. The cycle re-turns.