Interior Designer

And automatically, the words became sentences, with stems and petals. Forced from the fertile soil, stories grew arms and legs. They not only held her dreams but they carried her to lands far away.

People have no idea what’s going on in my head. Most days i wish i didn’t either.

Posted on 04/24/201804/24/2018 Posted in Musings, Photography, Poetry, RandomTagged Alice-in-Wonderland, answers, doubt, dreamscapes, existentialism, homeless, inspiration, listening well, lost, meaning of life, questions, soul, this writing life, voice, writers are readers

3 thoughts on “Interior Designer”

TheFeatheredSleep says:

04/25/2018 at 3:04 pm

Superb truth

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emotionsoflife2016 says:

04/25/2018 at 2:39 pm

Keep on keeping on, this is not over yet, not yet!

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Olga says:

04/25/2018 at 1:54 pm

We are definitely our own interior designers. Words have power to shape our world. Loved your intro words, Jeanne. 🙂

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3 thoughts on “Interior Designer”

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