Cost.

A birthday and even then, the tumbling destruction took no notice.

These last few weeks that have spanned the final months of 2016 have lifted a little, picking up speed into quicker currents that flush the cage with good clean water and wind.

In the melee of all I have suffered, the pain has extruded a simpler and far more effective soul.

I know where to go from here, to primal degree. Destination- up.
These days are filled with expansion. Booming in succession with the ardent drive to get going.

I read the lines of two years ago and never more was a change so abundantly clear to me.
The change I have craved. 

Can I discuss this transition with pride and zeal?
No.

The cost is heavy and I won't ever be on board with the payment.

November was generous and poured much of that 'giving' into December. I must thank that eleventh month for building the structure from which I catapulted.

For now, cryptic dialogue is all I can afford. Until a mood swing ruptures the gusts of guttural muscle needed to confront the 'lesson learned'.

What Won't I do

The bright morning expires far too quickly. 
The challenge lies in steeping what little sun she sprayed my way and doting on its brightness.
The intention of two-seventeen is gloriously motivated and I feel alive with a keener sense of intuition. The clouding days of yesteryear have broken in half and now lay, UN-mended.
This is a win, a gain and beautiful lesson learned.
A clarified level of thinking and believing that I choose to brand myself in.

My logo is: Yes.

Synchronicity

January One, two thousand seventeen.

Not much in the way of expectation, only the sheer and utter wish to move ever forward.

What won't I do...

That has become, my proverbial question.

Marry my choices to my intention to my elbow grease.

Nail my courage to its sticking place.

Ink, oil, thread, and words.. all mine for the taking.

Begin.