I used to always stand in the rain.
When I worked for 7-Eleven, I was the crazy employee standing in the parking lot, soaking wet.
Tonight, I felt the storms rolling in… with my children freshly in bed, I stepped into the backyard, bare feet on grass, and rose into the sky.
Planted in earth, among the clouds, a piece of mySelf— perhaps the piece I’ve been stirring awake with my drum and flute— reBloomed.
Or at least made an appearance.
Or was felt.
I’m not who I pretend to be,
as this 1978 one.
I must keep reminding myself of this…