The Rebel:
Most of what I have written here is free writing; only recently have I returned to prune out dead wood! My nature has always been one of spontaneity -- devil may care?
Bonsai:
An unwelcome dawn comes creeping upward, her tendrils straddling the dark mountain so terribly near my once sweet but now quaking refuge called home of the heart.
It took me a while to answer! Sorry. Thinking back to actual times of childhood, the dark mountain was, literally, Loma Prieta. Ordinarily, one welcomes the new day; however, the dawn that broke upon our desolate cabin in the Santa Cruz mountains presaged gloom and despair: a murder had been committed in the entryway of our hovel somewhat before our moving in. Metaphorically, this unfortunate occurrence has cast a pall over my life. Even my heart of hearts has been scathed. Of course, I'm taking this event and transmuting it into a reason for the emotional instability that has colored my little life.
I'm a story teller, not a realist. Then I learned the Truth and -- subsequently -- TTATT. The so-called dark and cruel wood of religious error swallowed me and my students alive. I have been freed but what of them who remain jailed? Talk about blowing things out of proportion. Thanks for asking . . .
CoCo
