My foot is stuck in the dirt which is slowly turning into mud from the rainfall of yesterday,
Brought on by thoughts of not being who I am anymore.
Brought on by thoughts of letting go and moving on.
Thoughts of no longer having the one thing I always wanted, time.
As the rain falls, my roots are becoming more visible.
Bare and naked.
All of the things I allowed to keep me grounded are being washed away,
Torn away.
I force my roots back into the mud, trying to make it stick,
But it does not work.
I am drenched with rainwater, but not enough to keep my roots growing,
Extending further under the surface is not working.
I take my foot and pull it from the ground.
If my roots won’t stay here, I will have to find somewhere else to lay them.
Somewhere I can be comfortable.
Somewhere I can start anew.
But is that something I really want to do?
New starts are scary.
How can I overcome this fear?
What if anew doesn’t work out?
What if I become lost in translation?
My roots are strong, but are they durable?
I pick up my long stalky roots and drag them on my shoulder.
I no longer feel the rain on my shoulders.
I no longer feel the mud gripping my toes.
I close my eyes, and I walk forward.
I don’t know where I’m going, but my roots were exposed for a reason.
I must find a new reason.
As I walk forward, I tiptoe.
A wave of darkness covers me like a shade.
And out of the night that covers me, I rip the veil off of my eyes
Revealing the sun in all its glory.
I look forward, and I can see an open range.
Nice soil, great sunlight, and a lot of room for me to grow.
Although this change is scary,
It is necessary.
I drop my roots in front of me, and they immediately descend into the ground.
I take in a breath of fresh air.
What is ahead of me?
Only time will tell.
