hands outside

 

I don’t want to live a life with my hands inside the window. I want to live a life with my hands flying outside, riding the waves of the wind in the mid-July summer breeze. The wind blows strong as it pushes my hands back, and I continue to ride the wind, forward and forward, as the gusts whip up my hair and throw it all around my eyes and around my face, hard and fast. Cool and refreshing. 

I don’t want to live a life with my doors so tightly locked. I want to run across the open prairie fields. Feel the blood rush from my head down to my feet. Feel the hot desert breeze on my skin. Feel my lungs breathing hard as a rainstorm rushes in and pours down, all fire and lightning, reigniting and renewing and transforming my spirit.

I want to live a life with my palms open to everything. Feeling everything. Deeply.

The only feeling I will scream out across the plains, carve deep in my bones, know dark red as the blood that flows through my veins,

is freedom.

07/17/2025

Writing on Stone Provincial Park, Southern Alberta

All for now,

All my love,

Onward.

-m

 
Micaela Yawney