Bringing down two clouds to wear as slippers, I meander through the corridors of my mind. I remember when I experienced something for the first time.
My mother cradles me in her lap while seated on a creaking rocking chair. A tea kettle whistles. Stroking the tip of my nose with the frayed edges of a blanket, I feel safe.
Daydreaming on a swing on a hot summer’s day, I drag my feet through the cool sand. I touch the sky with my toes as I swing high. Gazing at a sandbox, I remember when I got lost for hours in grains of sand.
I learn to write my name, the first thing ever given to me. Pencil ascending, descending, and angling across the page printed with thin blue lines. Shapes and lines tell my story.
Floating in a mountain lake, I contemplate cumulus clouds. Beads of sweat form on my lips. Suspended, I no longer feel the weight of my body. I am held and belong.
Radiators knock as the sun sets on another day. I paint roosters while snowflakes twirl to the ground. I wonder where people go once they pass over. Do they become timeless, no longer time-bound?