Voice

Rise up, I say. Hell with the images. Today we rebel.

Fire in my head clears my vision, burning foggy chirps of sloppy excuses and fear.

It’s time to stir up some magic, I’d say; times is to be earned, grasped with coarse hands, squeezed like the milky juice of lemons.

Dare, once again, before swiveling up the guards against the storm to ride the tide and seize the moment of your dream.

The day is still bright, the air is breathable. Take your moment, or get busy giving it away.

8.23.2021