1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..
Oh and Ahem, if you would take pity and turn off comment verification, I hate having to figure out what all those mashed up letters spell, and besides it would make leaving some love on your post that much easier for folks! OK, are you ready? Is your timer set? I know mine is....so now please give us your best five minutes on:::
Change started out for me early this morning. I wore a black shirt today...in honor of our seniors for the pep rally...and when I got here Trina gave me a cute Wildcat shirt. She has been losing weight all summer and her body has been changing....lucky for me I too have lost a good many pounds and can wear her hand me down shirt. I am tickled. So I changed shirts before my first class. I feel poetry in me today...that is a change for sure. I have not written anything poetic in a good while. But this morning I was looking at a guitar my father gave me when I was 13 and saw myself in it....only not so much. I saw what I was...and the changes I have experienced in who I am in the past forty-five years. It is a poem about change...some good....some bad. When I looked in the mirror this morning I saw so much change...white hair, aging face....you know what I mean.....and I found myself asking the mirror image:
Who are you? Where is the face I looked at yesterday....or was that last year? God! This is so depressing. I still feel young....yet, I am seeing me change intomy mother in this mirror more and more. The change is rapid. It seems to be more noticeable every single day. I look at my hands and see that they are short and stocky,...man hands, remnants of my Creek Indian Heritage. These hands were made to work hard and the calloused fingers are testimonials that they have. When did they change from soft, delicate piano player hands to these hands who have seen work? My eyes are the windows to my very being. They change depending on what is happening at they time....they tell you when I 'm sick, tired, distressed, or even....lying! My eyes have never learned to keep secrets. My body, once looked like a sleek, classical guitar before the days of children and marriage. Now I see change has occurred and where the classical guitar once was a bass violin stands in its place - curved, but definitely thicker. All in all I like the changes I see in me both inside and out. I mean we can't all be classical guitars. Change happens and because of this change. I am a bass fiddle, at this time in my life...so close your eyes and hear my music. It changes from time to time....depending on the tune I hear.
I hope you all have a wonderful weekend.