Refocus: Sometimes I Forget ...

by Kayce Stevens Hughlett

Sometimes I forget that I can fly, that anything I set my mind to is possible … if only in my dreams or on the page. Sometimes I forget that I’m a writer, a masterful creative, that flow is air, and water + air = bubbles. Sometimes I use death as a crutch, an inhibitor. I tell myself I’m too old or not good enough or the time has passed. I forget there are flowers in the garden of old bones … that Persephone became her own sovereign of the underworld.

What I do remember is criticism and political correctness and shame. I forget to flow with what comes naturally— the rhythm of dancing in graveyards and wearing flower crowns on a Wednesday. I forget that I am surrounded by the love of thousands, that I am a glorious child of the greatest Creator. I am a child of wonder.

original art by KSH And then, for a precious moment, I remember the place where the moon kisses the sun, where water meets sand, where air lifts up wings and bubbles and arms. I remember that death is a journeyman, a SoulStroller, a traveler of the world just like me. I linger there and remember to raise my eyes to the heavens and reverently brush red dirt off the old bones. I remember the seeds I’ve planted, that I am Empress, Mother, Queen, Sovereign, Creative.

Finally, I look to my center where choice lives … and here refocus my gaze.