I’m Done

I’m done.
I’m never going back.
I’m irrevocably done.

My words haunt the silence
as old skin wrinkles, writhing against
unwelcome habits, obsolete ways of thinking.
I want to shed what
no longer serves me.
I need change.

I am done with the past.
I am done with ruminating.
I am done with not singing fearlessly.

Life, help me come alive.
All I want is to breathe like the
gentle breeze caressing leaves
the way I did when I was not afraid
to release my voice into the wind.

I am the breeze, say it:
I am not afraid.

. . .

Poetry isn’t a profession; it’s a way of life.
It’s an empty basket; you put your life into it and make something out of that.

—Mary Oliver

pink red buds blossom on a single branch with blue sky and limbs in the background. Text: Poetry centers the heart. by Kathryn LeRoy

. . .

And always—

Be kind. Be brave. Be you.

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Photo:  Moon © Kathryn LeRoy