Rivers of Frozen Love

Rivers of frozen love,

Are beginning to move again. they release their frozen echoes of pain and confusion. they steam off the remnants of the reasons they froze... stop the love, we have said, stop the joy, we have pronounced, by going colder and colder to close down the pain of the past, of the present, of a future we do not want to rise.

Sometimes, to stop these pains, we have literally signed away our own life, allowing it all to go duller,

and duller

and duller.

it doesn't have to be this way.

/life doesn't have to loose its luster, its passion. Realy. it isn't a pronouncement by the earth that everything deteriorate, and static passions,  become all there is, the bounce of life isolated between ines in a parking spot of existence. It doesn't have to be this way.

And the warming is, and is not, a choice.

The whole world is quietly telling us to waking up again. Nudging us to start our engines, to feel the fire deep within, and let it dance a litte higher.

and as its flames ick our insides, the steam rises, and the ice glows , and rises, and those pains are released. For freezing everything is only the harshest way to ensure we don't fall again. Another way is to get really good at rising. and falling. the better we fall, the less it hurts.

I want to dance my whole life. I recalaimmy right to elarn foreever. I refuse to choose to join a frozeen stream... when the fow is rebirthing, and is here to be.

It is spring. It is the dawn.