Belong #416

Been in the garden.

The story.

The artwork.

The rhythm.

Having planted.

Written.

Colored.

Composed.

Focused on the growth.

The words.

The feelings.

The sounds.

Built into the home.

The talk.

The weather.

The music.

As confessions of less even though there is more.

As unity touching all.

As reflections of every single smile.

As repeating coordinates for playing through.

Because no matter where every storyline has been or goes, there’s comfortableness within the collection of that foliage.

There’s acceptance within the terms.

There’s shelter within the tones.

There’s familiarity within the steps.

But then the stories are thin without the moments that make knowing right where the perfect blue belongs personal.

Without the spotty employment history of love and where anger finishes strong.

Without the weather that creates hope and runs through the count of sunny days.

Without the stability written in by silence and the fear that alters it into instability.

Without the sound of a whispered song and the echoes of it sung loudly on some other day.

Without the stained paintbrushes that still portray life without touching a canvas.

Without the sorrow that releases tears more frequently than laughter does.

And without the freestyling of weeds that cast shadows and pauses. 

Because fitting into a choir doesn’t mean personal pitches don’t have to be practiced.

Looking like other stories doesn’t stop unseen details from rolling around homes.

The sanctuary of a group doesn’t prevent the rain from coming in sideways anyways.

And together doesn’t untangle thoughts of loneliness.

So notice how the community gets agreement from the gardener but the garden gets discord.

Watch how the hardest thing isn’t the details but that the writer is still sitting in the gossip missing the love part. 

Observe how we want blue skies but not the slowdown that every artist and artwork needs.

And see how there are songs to carry feels but those feels are why the music sounds right.

Because with and without fitting in and details, connection can and does create conflict and conflict can and does create connection.

And as we pull up yet another duality, remember; a particular word doesn’t pause just because we know our face in why our perfect blues belong where they do. 

Have the best day, POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell