Healing- a poem about inner freedom

I used to laugh like crazy

when I was slipping on the ice,

surprised by the sudden enjoyment

of moving faster with a new balance.

Then, they scared me with the smallest patch of ice,

my mind unfolded cracking bones scenarios,

my voice minded the dangers,

threatening hospital shades hunted my mistakes.

I used to rotate like a dervish

until I got dizzy and fell on the ground,

excited with the wonderful feeling of being outside time

in a new niche of space.

Then, they scared me of the slightest change of perspective,

my posture got straight and my neck got stiff,

I could see the adults hanging above me like fruits,

oddly decorating the tree of the well-behaved.

Now I am melting back

into the freedom I once had,

my words are ropes

letting me climb back into the rabbit hole

from where I’ll get my strength back,

the one I need to slip over the ice

and to dance away until I am out of breath,

while wet leaves drop around me

flicked by the abrupt movements

of the scarecrows in the trees.

Photo by Brooke Lark on Unsplash