lilies

I haven't written in a while, lately that is how everything seems to begin. I haven't done _____ in a while. If someone asked me to describe what growing up feels like, I would probably say this. It is forgetting to do things you loved and learning to do things you need. It's not a bad thing but some nights are for submission, a silent bow to the past.
You know how when you were little and went back to school after summer vacations, a pencil would feel really weird in your hand? Your words were awkward scratches and sometimes you couldn't believe you had a more graceful rhythm? That's how I feel with words these days. Mine are too choppy, too erratic, too almost. There is a silent grace only practice can gift.
I wanted to talk about beautiful metaphors and analogies but all I can think of is this line by Agha Shahid Ali,

Look, how a God returns to his wrecked temple.

 How we return to our own wrecked temples, with madness and simplicity. Some days you are the tool and others you are the master. Regardless, you create.