This open-ended piece of creative writing will bring heart and mind into focus. Reflections of emotions such as unacceptance, grief, failure, deliverance and more will be explored in further pieces of this multi-post series.
The term “thirsting soul” hints at the inadequacies of being human and the pursuit of a dreamer or divine search for completeness.
Here I am running away to spend time with myself and try to love myself. Yet, here I am feeling worse. I see people with their friends, roaming and laughing and sightseeing downtown and I want to hole up into a ball of warm blankets. I want to feel a heat wave send a shiver down my spine because it shouldn’t be here. And maybe I shouldn’t be here.
With memory of it all my body responds to the ache in my gut, the willowing heart song confirming it all. Deadbeat. Hollow within, I muster the courage to reach out of blackness in my mind. I gather the greens of spring, surfacing from beneath the earth. Out they stretch, little heads in search of light. Lively they sprout; lovingly they bound together towards the sky. They, as I, are thirsty. At last, a droplet of hope. Thirsting, subdued.
Mossy axons sprawling, spreading, multiplying and it hits like a babbling brook, once frozen, now alive again. It hits like a train wreck where all survive but one. Minimal damage, but pain none the same.
As I look to the sky, beckoning for my Father. All doubt is shaken and I stand strong like a forest of well-established residency. “Here I am, send me.”