I need some kind of rain storm to wash all the years of brick buildings in the way of the moonrise off my shores. I need the old sidewalks torn up from some wild surf. I need all the rivers redirected, the rockpools flooded and drowned.  I need the leaves stripped clean from branches and old trees uprooted.

    Its been life, like we all get...a mix of circumstance, blind choices, loss and distraction. Love, heartbreak, near death, bruises on the soul, running after carrots on sticks. Attempts, re-attempts, re-re-attempts. Failure.
   I wondered how the intelligent aware souls I met at 19 and 20 were tired and burned and cynical and cautious at 45.
   We are food for the world. And she eats us slowly while we live.
I need to forget the weight of wrongness. Wrongness of compromise for love and the small deaths it commits.
     I need to reap the sacrifices I have made for love, to see the moonrise, to feel the night, to eat outside, under stars, wild and naked and free.
   I need to reciprocate sweetness with plants, with animals, with humans.

I need to be horseback, I need to be hearing the melissa. I need to be picking dandelion flowers and hypericum.
I need to believe, not desperately, not half hearted...I need to believe really, like I know the river will contain water and that spring will follow winter.
  I need a new contract with myself and with life.