This morning I didn’t give a sh*t
I jogged like a pelican, stretched like an egret and did a one handed cartwheel as I watched that electric peach sunrise kiss over oak lined ridges
It came to me- no more writing about writing
No more processing, back and forth
Just channel the voices and do do do
Hone and craft
Channel, shine, refine the stories
Galáctica awaits, fire away