Shush
compromise.
Remember,
safety above the mess
is a slow death.
Knowing what is next,
assuring myself
I know
what is next,
stomps out miracles
and silences sirens:
closes the door on what
can be.
i will not go through days
the same from morning to night
in and out of slow sliding seasons
as the she who thinks
in square units of measured time.
i will dive
into the murky mud
of what longs
for birth.
Growing
are fierce buds
through my rocky soil
with fists
tight with determination
into next
and next
outside of tidy
outside of known,
I hope, though, shy of disaster.
Inappropriate Creation,
comes forth,
and I let it.
Life as Improv 
Gorgeous and true
Hello hello, you!
Oh I love this. I love the risk of it, and the trust of it. Living in the unknown: I do try, and sometimes succeed.
Alison
Sometimes it feels very high stakes to not know. Just enough light to make little half steps lately. Hello to you out there, Alison, who inspires me with her movements in the world!
xox
I love this, too. I love knowing that we’re each doing this in so many ways, sending our fierce buds up through the till of history. It feels like unfolding is an individual sport, but I know it’s not. So keep sharing. It helps my own leaves twinkle in the breeze, and reach for the light…
May our sense of time be shapeless,
Michael
MM-It’s lovely to see your twinkling leaves, visible over miles, now starting to turn true color in the play of seasons. I accept your blessing for shapeless time (which has me expanding from the drop to the ocean in this seeming moment:) m
And we never give up… forging our footprints in the earth… our heart open to new… unknown… but a trust of magnificence… much love to you Marga x