This is what I chose, where I chose to fall and I thought it might have been the curved walls and the curved doorways but really it was this, the curved branches that spoke of shelter and softness even in the roar of winter's empty spaces. This is what I chose when I could have chosen anything. This is what I choose when the vast array of choices opens up to me and whispers that this is now my life.
I had a hard weekend. It felt like too much emotion had seeped out of the quiet wanderings and I crumbled and everything felt disjointed and within it all I felt lost. So I ventured to the one place I rarely go anymore ... I went to a mall and thought I would buy something to make myself feel better. It was a reach backwards to an old safe reliable me. Only the mall was filled with too much colour, too much noise and everything looked cheap and useless, cluttered and meaningless. So I drove into the clanging city traffic and horns honked and sirens blared and I felt even more jagged than when I had first ventured out.
And then I turned onto my street. This street that I chose and the trees enveloped me and whispered leaves down and they reminded me in their quiet sway that this ... this. This is all I ever need.