I wade in this water to find its source.

Sometimes I still feel

that critical eye 

scanning over how I choose

to spend my hours 

these days

And I shake it off

by remembering 

that mine is a quiet revolution

of haikus and slow breaths
of learning the questions my body is asking
of re-knowing what it is that I want.

A personal revolution

of "braving my own wilderness".

There are no longer hammers or drills

or concrete saws in my hands

No more building islands

of new kingdoms

But rather pen and voice and downward dogs
for creating myself anew

to exist more honestly

right here in this wild world

that some are flailing about

trying to save.
I guess
you could say that
I've chosen to save myself,
And this is why I left
in the first place.