MUSHROOM m i n d

By Steph Raymond All Rights Reserved ©

Other / Poetry

01/10/2013

01/10/2013

There was a shift.

The air all around her felt different somehow.

T h i n n e r .

Silkier.

She could feel the weight of a thousand galaxies in motion

move with her newly directed course.

Change was coming;

she could feel it deep within her bones

as the sleeping giants made from stone and dust within her

slowly cracked and crumbled…

awakening

from their deep slumber.

She could feel the way they

s i g h e d

and stretched inside her bones and it made her

wide awake.

She felt something else too…

Like the way she felt before a storm.

Calm

yet ripe with anticipation

as the clouds would gather overhead

and cold crept its way into her skin,

leaving a trail of small bumps from her neck to her toes.

Lying in wait;

anxious

and

e x c i t e d .

A frosted entity making its presence known-

readying her for something forgotten and familiar.

Something vastly

i n t o x i c a t i n g

revealed itself in the air she breathed,

filling her lungs with sweet anticipation

and release with

restless wanting.

A transition.

A calling.

The winds of a new season coming.

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