There will be a time for cleaning, today is not that day.
The dishes can wait.
The sweeping won't happen.
The bed will not be made.
There will be a time for primping, but today is not that day.
My hair will stay messy and matted; my face will be beautifully blotchy; remnants of yesterday's mascara will colour outside the lines and paint my skin like the backdrop of a starlit sky.
Today there is a reserved sign on my heart that only my soul can occupy.
I will write words with magic and create with carefree delight.
I will open ancient eyes and remember wisdom in my bones.
I will marvel at the modern day mystic moving through my veins.
I will surrender to a primal pulse in alignment with the cosmos.
I will tremble in awe at the majesty of my ancestry.
I will whisper words of freedom into the portal of my soul.
There will be a time for cleaning, but today is not that day.
Photo of Janne Robinson // JanneRobinson.com